Just a Perfect Friendship
by LadyDeb1970
Summary: Next in the Worlds Apart series: A special evening with his favorite college student quickly goes haywire for Jack when an alien bounty hunter seeks to collect the reward for a former Companion of the Doctor.  Not that the bounty hunter fares so well. . .
1. Never As Planned

Chapter One

Never as Planned

Disclaimer: Jack Harkness belongs to the BBC. Theodore (T-Rex) Galloway belongs to _Transformers_ (specifically _Revenge of the Fallen_, though he's not such a creep here); _The Mikado_ belongs to Gilbert and Sullivan, and _Anything Goes_ belongs to Cole Porter. Everyone and everything else belongs to me. . .including UWP and its environs.

Author's Note: I've wanted to write a fic along these lines, ever since I heard John Barrowman sing _Friendship_. I saw _Anything Goes_ for the first time when I was eleven and drove my parents nuts by singing the songs for weeks afterward. Of course, they proceeded to add fuel to the fire by taking me to see _HMS Pinafore_ and _Kiss Me Kate_ at local theatres that summer. This is the first of three chapters in this particular story, the seventh in the _Worlds Apart_ series. The next story is _Fragments Reassembled_, which brings Tosh, Owen, and Suzie into the mix.

Western Pennsylvania

Off-Campus Housing of University of Western Pennsylvania

June 1995

"Do I even want to know where you learned to dance? Or is that one of those state secrets where you'd have to kill me if you ever told me?"

As opening lines went, that wasn't too bad. Not as good as one of his, but good enough. His guide rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath about stupid grad students, but led him into what looked like a living room or den. He thanked her with one of his more brilliant smiles. She blinked, returned the smile, and then wandered off, allowing him to observe his quarry from the shadows. Standing in the middle of the room was a dark-haired young man, maybe twenty-five or twenty-six, who was the most likely owner of the voice. In his arms was a very familiar young woman, head bowed as she studied the placement of their feet. At least, he hoped that was the case. 'Cause if it wasn't, well. . .

After a moment, the dark head came back up, she adjusted the man's grip on her. . .which somehow it migrated to the curve of her hip and was inching around to her posterior. _Next time, break his wrist, Lace_, the watcher thought. Lacey instead trod on the boy's foot as an object lesson and replied, "A family friend. Same reason I occasionally say something about 'posting the mail' or something similar. He lived in Cardiff. . . that's in Wales, by the way. Anyhow, he taught me to dance. Among other things."

"We _do_ know where Cardiff is, Lacey, we aren't total idiots," another, slightly older man said, "and I thought you used British terms on occasion because you lived there." Lacey Keller tossed a rather dark look over her shoulder at him, adjusted the younger man's grip on her again, and made a motion to the second man. He obligingly turned on the CD player, only to wince when Metallica blasted from the speakers. The watcher grinned and shook his head. _Amateur_. This time, he saw Lacey's dance partner slide his hand to her rump. Lacey turned her attention back to him, slapped his hand, and then moved it back to her hip.

"Honest to Christ, David, you do that one more time and I'll break your damn wrist! People talk about Jack being bad!" Lacey huffed, sounding more like her father than her mother. Not that this was necessarily a bad thing. The newcomer smiled softly, just waiting for the right moment to reveal his presence. Lacey went on, "No, T-Rex, Dad was never stationed in Britain. Italy, yes, but not Britain. And while I'm thinking about it, do either of you boys know how that crap got in my CD player? 'Cause I deliberately chose Cole Porter for this particular dance. Or is someone trying to pay me back for last week's entertainment?"

"I wasn't trying to grope you, Lace, my hand just slipped. And you keep talking about this mysterious friend of yours, 'Jack,' when do we get to meet him?" the young man named 'David' asked. Lacey bought that excuse as much as the watcher did: not at all. The young man added, "And no, I don't know who put Metallica in your CD player. No, neither of us were trying to pay you back for dragging us to see _The Mikado_ last week, and. . .OW! Lacey! That hurt!" Was he sulking? Yeah, it sure looked that way. _Good girl_, the watcher thought, _just like I taught you. Just give his arm a very small twist the next time you use that move_.

"I did warn you, David. And you'll meet Jack when I can be sure he won't terrify you. I trust him, but I don't think either of you are man enough to meet him face to face. Might make you feel lacking," Lacey responded, stepping back. Now he could see her face, and while she was irritated with the man she was trying to help, she wasn't actually angry. But he was curious to hear what would come next, given the way both David and 'T-Rex' were glaring at her. Lacey simply smirked, adding, "Jack is utterly gorgeous, incredibly charming, and very dangerous. You could learn a few lessons from him, David, in terms of charm. I'm kinda glad Jack isn't here right now. If he saw you groping me, he'd either break your arm or ask if he can join in."

"Now that's the best offer I've heard all day. Happy birthday, Alexandra," Captain Jack Harkness said, leaving the shadows. The two men actually yelped, and David shot across the room, well away from Lacey. . .who looked surprised, but not even close to being shocked. Hmm. He would have to work on that. Later. Jack smirked, re-focusing his attention more fully on the dark-haired young woman standing before him. She was dressed in black jeans and a white camisole, her dark hair loose across her shoulders, reminding him that yes, she was a young woman, not a little girl. And she was beautiful. Lacey bounced across the room and right into his arms. Jack laughed aloud, spinning her around. As he did, he took note of the completely gob-smacked expressions of the two men. _Excellent_.

At last, he settled Lacey on her feet once more and kissed her forehead, repeating, "Happy birthday, Lacey-girl. I'm impressed; it's not like you to suggest a threesome. Have they been corrupting you?" Lacey rolled her eyes at him, and Jack was pleased to note that the two men were even more gob-smacked. Then he returned his attention to Lacey, looking over the changes in her over the last two years. . .and changes, there were. For one thing, she was far more comfortable in her own skin. There was none of the awkwardness he remembered in the stray moments when she forgot she was supposed to be keeping her distance (before she kissed him, that is). And, the girl he encountered in Kentucky two years earlier would have never talked to her friends the way she just did. . .and, he found, it was appealing. Very, very appealing. This girl took very little nonsense.

"I suppose you could say that. Jack, this is Theodore Galloway, a doctoral candidate in the political science department. But I call him 'T-Rex.' Don't ask why, just go with it. I think the explanation would even break your brain. And Mr. Groper here is David Wesley, a doctoral candidate in Criminology. I've been trying to teach him to dance. . .but maybe you could do a better job of it?" Lacey queried, arching her eyebrow at him suggestively. Oh. This was definitely not the girl he remembered. He liked it even more when the dark-haired young man introduced as 'David' squeaked. Lacey grinned, adding, "Boys, this is Captain Jack Harkness, who taught me to shoot, to defend myself, and to dance."

"All very true. I gave her a well-rounded education," Jack observed with a suggestive grin. _Walked right into that one, Lacey-girl_, he thought. Lacey evidently didn't disagree, as she simply rolled her eyes again and swatted his shoulder affectionately. He grasped her wrist and pulled her against his side in a one-armed hug, kissing the top of her head as he added, "And since today is her twenty-first birthday, I thought I'd take her out to dinner and a show. Any suggestions?" Lacey's hand came up to cover Jack's hand over her shoulder, something else that was new. While she was always affectionate while she was growing up, and even demonstrative, she always kept the touches to hugs and kisses. Yes. . . yes, he liked the changes in Lacey very much.

"Uh. . .uhm. . .well, there's a production of _Anything Goes_ in town. Lacey's already seen it, that's how she dragged us to see _The Mikado_, af. . .OW! Galloway, quit with the smacking, you're as bad as Lacey!" David replied, glaring at the innocent-looking doctoral candidate. Innocent, except to someone like Jack, who recognized the mischief lurking in the other man's eyes. He should, he saw that expression when he looked in a mirror. And now that he noted the changes in Lacey, he turned his full attention to her two companions, giving each an appreciative once-over. David was in his middle twenties, perhaps twenty-five or twenty-six, with smooth dark hair, chocolate brown eyes and a baby face: a fellow pretty boy. Not really Lacey's type, to the best of his knowledge. . .and why was he thinking about Lacey's type anyhow? Ah yes, because he cared for her and didn't want to see her hurt.

He switched his attention to the man who was intriguingly called 'T-Rex.' He was, as Lacey observed, a doctoral candidate, so he was about a decade older than Lacey. Like David, he had dark hair and dark eyes, but the lines of his face were more. . .interesting. He wasn't as pretty as David, but he was still quite attractive in an understated way. In a way, that made him more intriguing. Yes, they were both good-looking men, and he was more than a little curious about their relationship(s) with Lacey. He didn't think she had a romantic interest in either, but asked, "So, would you like to tell me why Lacey is teaching a future Criminologist how to dance?" For the first time, he noticed a wedding band on David's hand, and refrained from asking any embarrassing questions of his young friend. She likely wouldn't appreciate it.

"I dunno, would you like to _ask_ why I'm teaching him?" Lacey retorted, her eyes dancing with merriment. Jack bit back a grin. . ._that's my girl_! Lacey continued after a moment, "David did something mind-bogglingly stupid, and he's trying to woo back his lady love." T-Rex snickered, quieting only at a Keller Glare. Lacey returned her attention to Jack, explaining, "Since I'm such a nice person, I agreed to help him. . .at least, try to help him. . .although I'd do better if he wasn't more interested in my rear than in the moves I'm trying to teach him. You want to win Allie back, David, not pick up Mrs. Wesley Number Two. And no comment from the peanut gallery, Harkness, I have absolutely no issue with using your own lessons against you." T-Rex roared with laughter, David turned pink, and Jack simply smirked at the girl.

"But it's such a nice rear! Curves in _all_ the right places!" Jack teased and Lacey rolled her eyes, swatting him once again. Jack shook his head, adding, "Okay, saying that just felt _so_ wrong. Sorry, Lacey-girl. However. If you're done with the dancing lesson, perhaps you'd like to accompany me to your birthday dinner and show? What time does the show start? And would you two fine gentlemen like to recommend a nice restaurant?" In all the years he traveled the United States during his exile, he'd never been to this part of Western Pennsylvania. And one thing he learned was to listen to the locals with regards to the cuisine and local attractions. They lived here, after all.

"Take her to Carlo's. It's an Italian restaurant down the street from the playhouse and they know Lacey there," T-Rex suggested. Oh, really? He was quite sure there was a story there! Jack smirked at Lacey, who responded with the time-honored tradition of sticking her tongue out. He considered telling her that he could find far better uses for her tongue, but decided against it. She was liable to hurt him very badly. He taught her, after all. And her means of inflicting pain would be exceedingly unpleasant. T-Rex added, "And she's right about one thing. . .you really don't want to know how I ended up the nickname of 'T-Rex,' Captain Harkness."

"Then I won't ask. Pick you up at seven, Lacey-Lace?" Jack asked the brunette. She consulted her watch. . .it was currently four thirty. . .and nodded once. Jack leaned down and kissed the top of her head, saying, "Then I'll pick you up at your apartment after I make preparations of my own. Oh, don't give me that look, Alexandra, of course I know where your apartment is, and of course I went there first. Your roommate's. . .interesting." Her eyes narrowed, and Jack braced himself for the swat he knew was coming. What she did was far worse: she pinched his cheek. The upper one, that is, and he responded with an outraged glare. _What was that for_?

She simply smirked at him, replying, "You're just so cute when you're annoyed with me!" Oooh, she would so pay for that later! Before he picked her up, he would have to check at this Carlo's, see if they would sing 'happy birthday.' Lacey hated getting attention like that. He smiled at her sweetly, drawing a suspicious look. Good. He liked to keep her guessing; it kept her attention. Jack leaned over and kissed her cheek, before waving cheerfully at the two men. T-Rex smiled back, and just for fun, Jack winked suggestively at them both. David choked and turned dark pink, while T-Rex just rolled his eyes. Evidently, Lacey told him enough about Jack so that it didn't take him off guard. Fine. Spoil his fun.

"Drive careful, Captain Harkness," the ever-polite David called as Jack turned and left the room. He responded with a jaunty wave, already making plans in his head. Aside from the staff at Carlo's singing 'happy birthday' to Lacey, he wanted to make sure that this evening went off perfectly. His Lacey was turning twenty-one, and he wanted everything wonderful for her birthday. . .damn near perfect, if possible.

Of course, it never _quite_ worked out that way with them.

TWTWTWTWTW

After Jack left, Lacey and David did a few more turns about the front room before Lacey gave up on the lessons for the day. Besides, David had some work to do, and so, Lacey said good-bye to her friends at five thirty. . .or rather, said good-bye to David, since T-Rex drove her back to her apartment. On the way back to the apartment, Lacey thought about Jack's unexpected visit. That was a lovely surprise. . .she never expected Jack to turn up on her birthday, although maybe she should have. Over the last twenty years, he only missed one birthday, four years earlier. . .and that was because he suffered a particularly agonizing death, and was still recovering his strength. However, he made up for it by buying her a small handgun and teaching her to use it.

This year, she anticipated not seeing him because he was supposedly in South Africa, following up on a lead regarding some old friends of his. Not the Doctor. . .Jack told her more about the Doctor the previous year, though not why there was such a haunted look in his eyes when he spoke of the man who changed Jack from a con artist to a good man. His words, not Lacey's. Her dad told her that the Doctor helped Jack to get his priorities straight, but he didn't make Jack into something he wasn't already. They traveled together for a matter of months, and it wasn't possible to change an adult male that much in that short period of time. Rather, Dad said, he reminded Jack of whom he truly was. And that was reason enough to be grateful to him.

Strangely, she wasn't that surprised to find that Jack was once a con artist. He told her more than once while she was growing up that there were times in his life when he did things he wasn't especially proud of. If her memory served (which she thought it did), he didn't want her thinking that he was something he wasn't. So yes, she knew about some of those things of which he wasn't proud, including the actions which led to his exile in the nineteen sixties. And as for those things which she didn't know, well. . . Very little about Jack surprised her, at this point. After learning the man couldn't stay dead, everything else was. . .well, you learned to expect just about anything. And then when you took into account that he was born three thousand years in the future, traveled through time, and went through World War II twice (as well as World War One), mundane took on a whole new meaning. So did passé.

She grimaced a little as her mind drifted to her roommate. Her roommate, whom Jack met. Mundane, passé. That was often how Anika described anyone who wasn't her. Admittedly, she got along all right with Anika at first, but that was when Kara lived with them as well, and she was a buffer between the other two girls. Lacey was glad of the adjective Jack used to describe Anika. If he said anything about how pretty she was or how charming or anything of that nature, she probably would have slapped him. As T-Rex pulled up in front of the apartment building, he said softly, "Don't let Anika get to you, Lace. She's jealous of you." Lacey raised her eyebrows and he repeated, "She's jealous of you. You have everything she's ever wanted. Your parents have been happily married for nearly twenty-five years, you and Kara were extremely close, your grades are consistently better, and even if he's just a family friend, Captain Harkness clearly adores you. Don't let her upset you."

"You scare me sometimes, T-Rex, you really do," Lacey said, shaking her head. He responded with his best 'who, me' look, utterly spoiled by the mischievous glint in his eyes. She smiled at her friend, kissed his cheek, and murmured, "Thanks. I'll try to keep that in mind. See you tomorrow? I don't think David's gonna let this thing with Allie go." Not that she blamed him for trying to hold onto his marriage. However, there were times when she really wondered about her friend. She expected Jack to be Jack. He wasn't from this time or place. But David was another story entirely. She shook her head, smiled at T-Rex again, and then got out of the car.

Dinner at Carlo's, then the playhouse. While it didn't matter to Jack what she wore, it mattered to her. So. A variation on what she was wearing right now. . .a white blouse and black trousers, maybe the trousers that she and Kara bought the last time they went shopping together, right before Kara moved out? That would work. Lacey nodded thoughtfully. Her outfit was settled, which brought up the question of her jewelry. White and black. . .maybe the opal necklace and earrings her dad brought back for her during one of his TDY assignments? She mentally visualized it, and liked what she saw. Shoes. They had to be dressy but comfortable. Even innocent outings with Jack could turn. . .ah. . .messy. He wasn't a Boy Scout, but he also couldn't turn away from a problem. So. The black moccasins? Dressy, but very comfortable and she learned the hard way that she could run in them, when she realized she was late to class after lunch one day. Excellent.

So, the only thing left to do was grab her shower and hopefully Anika wouldn't annoy her. To be fair, Anika did try to be a good roommate. . .however, she had a nasty habit of talking down to Lacey, as if she was a none-too-bright five year old. Considering Lacey never talked that way to Cissie even as a baby, it was more than a little insulting. Both Kara and Lacey warned her about it, but Anika just sulked and pouted and otherwise ignored the other two girls. Not for the first time, she thought she should have gone home to her parents as soon as the semester ended, but Kara needed her help and Lacey never could say 'no' to a friend in need, not with everything Kara did for her while they lived together, especially after Lacey first arrived in the Keystone State. She would be leaving next week, though, to spend two months with her parents and sisters in Indiana. Fort Ben would be her father's last posting. . .he was fifty-seven years old, with thirty-five years in the Army. He was ready. And, it was rumored that Fort Ben would be closed with BRAAC.

The only question in Lacey's mind was if her mother was ready. In the twenty plus years of their marriage, her father spent almost as much time away as he did at home, and to suddenly have her husband underfoot? Lacey was now old enough for her mother to start confiding in her, which sometimes made the girl a bit uncomfortable, but at the same time. . .at the same time, she was proud that her mother thought she was mature enough to be a confidant. She felt as she did when Jack told her things about his past, things that made it clear that he trusted her. And speaking of Jack, she needed to get her shower! Although, knowing him, he'd probably enjoy seeing. . .ah, no. _Let's not go there, Alexandra Elizabeth_!

The apartment was blessedly free of her remaining roommate. Lacey made short work of obtaining the outfit in question, undressing (finding in her back pocket a twenty dollar bill. . .so that was what David was doing!), chose her favorite body wash, and commenced her shower. She was excited about tonight, incredibly excited. Being out with Jack was always fun. Even when she was a child, simply being around Jack was an adventure, but if he took her someplace, with or without her sisters? The man could even make a trip to the grocery store lots of fun. Lacey remembered sitting in the basket of the buggy as a very small girl, giggling as Jack played secret agent in the aisles of the grocery store, complete with sound effects, eyes darting around comically. He was good at that, good at those.

When she thought about it, there wasn't much he couldn't do. He was one of the few men she ever met who had no issue with playing dolls with little girls. Cissie told her during their last telephone conversation that Jack played for hours with her. Lacey smiled, remembering the awe and joy in her baby sister's voice. While she was thinking these pleasant thoughts, the change in water pressure alerted her to the return of her roommate. Lacey rolled her eyes. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted. At least Anika had the good sense not to barge into the bathroom. Usually. Still, just to be safe, she finished rinsing, turned off the water, stepped out of the shower and began drying herself. Her precautions paid off when, as she finished buttoning up her blouse, the door to the bathroom flew open and Anika inquired, "Have a date tonight? With that dishy guy who came here looking for you this afternoon? Did he find you?" _None_ _of your damn business_, was Lacey's initial thought. However, she merely smiled.

"Jack's taking me out to dinner, a birthday celebration for the big two-one," she replied, pulling her shoulder-length hair away from her face and into a barrette. . .another gift from one of Dad's temporary duty assignments. In the mirror, she caught sight of Anika's face and groaned silently. Terrific. She had her 'concerned friend' face on, which meant it was likely that Lacey would want to punch her in about two minutes. Maybe something along the lines of how Jack was out of her league, and she should really focus on boys closer to home? Most likely. She would say she was telling Lacey all this as her friend, but during those conversations, Lacey always heard the edge of something else in her voice. And that lifelong companion inside her mind that told her how to react in certain situations, that saved her life almost as often as Jack had. . .that voice confirmed what T-Rex said. That Anika was jealous of her.

She was proven right a moment later when Anika began, "Lacey, I'm only saying this as your friend and because I care about you, but you do realize he's not interested in you that way, don't you? I mean, you're a nice girl and all, but he. . . he's absolutely gorgeous, to say nothing of being several years older than you are and _much_ more sophisticated." _In other words, a plain little nothing like you couldn't possibly offer Captain Jack Harkness anything that he might want._ Lacey called it right. She desperately wanted to deck Anika right now. However, her mother raised her to be a lady and she wouldn't punch her. Yet.

"I've known Jack my entire life, Anika, and he's interested in just about everyone that way. Before you say anything else, he's shed blood defending my life and my honor. My family has been honored to be his friend for years," Lacey replied. Which told the other girl absolutely nothing, but it wasn't really any of Anika's business. And, she knew she should probably thank Anika for being 'concerned,' but right now, she wasn't in the mood to be nice. She had to finish getting ready for her celebratory dinner with Jack, and Anika was dangerously close to pissing her off. To drive her point home, she brushed by the other girl, heading for her bedroom and her jewelry box. Unfortunately, Anika followed her.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt. You're so sensitive and soft-hearted. . ." the other girl said. Lacey stopped dead in her tracks and pivoted to face her roommate, hitting Anika with the full force of the Keller Glare. Anika swallowed hard and backed up a few steps, and satisfied, Lacey turned back around, resuming her strides toward her room. Hitting Anika was out, but if she continued pushing, Lacey would roll out the big guns. . .The Kiss. And yes, she mentally capitalized those words when she remembered that day in the storage room of the skating rink. She might have initiated The Kiss, but Jack wasn't exactly fighting her off. In fact. . .forget Anika pushing further.

She settled herself on her bed, sifting through her jewelry box, and informed her remaining roommate, "And just so you know. . .two years ago, when I was home from college, my parents noticed that things were strained between Jack and me." She opted not to tell Anika why things were strained between them, choosing to continue, "They locked us in a room together and while we were working out our issues, I kissed him. On the mouth. With my tongue. And he kissed me back." She made sure she stressed all three points. . .Anika tended to resist/dismiss anything that threatened her view of Lacey as an innocent, dim-witted rural hayseed chick. Evidently, she missed the memo that her innocent hayseed roommate grew up around the world. Typical.

It was supremely uncharitable to take pleasure in Anika's wop-jawed expression, but she did it anyhow. Lacey merely smiled serenely and put on the finishing touches. . .her favorite perfume (a gift from her mother), the opal set given to her by her father and the watch Jack himself gave her for her sixteenth birthday. And showing that incredible timing Jack often demonstrated, the door bell rang and Jack called, "Hi honey, I'm home!" Lacey snickered and slid her feet into the moccasins. Trust Jack to make an entrance. She rose to her feet, brushing past Anika, and picked up her purse on the way to the staircase. At the bottom of the stairs, Jack waited, face upturned. She gave herself a moment to enjoy the sight of her oldest and dearest friend, attired in his customary greatcoat. . .and in a suit and tie, rather than his 'uniform' of black trousers, blue shirt, white undershirt, and suspenders? He looked even more gorgeous than usual.

She descended the stairs, having learned a thing or two about timing and drama from Jack himself, and was pleased to see that his eyes never left her. She reached the bottom step, and Jack murmured, "You look amazing, Alexandra. Need to take a picture of you to send to your mom and dad and sisters." He raised her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. Then he looked past her, most likely to see Anika at the top of the stairs, and his eyes grew cold briefly. But only briefly. In the next moment, Jack's eyes flickered back to her, and they warmed by several degrees. But what really surprised her was what he did next. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. And Lacey promptly lost all capacity for rational thought. She was only vaguely aware of her hands knotting in his suspenders, as they did the first time she kissed him, and of the moan she made deep in her throat as the kiss deepened.

When he pulled away, himself looking a bit dazed, Jack smiled at her softly and murmured, "Ready to go, then?" Lacey bobbed her head, blinking the stars out of her eyes, and he continued, "Then your chariot awaits, m'lady." He drew her down the last step, offered her his arm, and they walked out of the apartment together. Jack, showing the manners she knew he had (and used when he wanted to), opened the car door for her, waited until she was comfortable in the front seat, then closed the door. When he joined her in the car a moment later, he said softly, "I hope you don't mind my entrance. . .or the kiss. . .but I really didn't like the way she talked about you when I first went to your apartment." Lacey blinked in shock. Mind? The kiss? Was he INSANE? However, she restrained herself. For now.

"You'll get no argument from me. I came awfully close to punching her while I was getting dressed, since she kept harping on how gorgeous you are, and how you couldn't possibly be interested in little ol' me," she finally responded, buckling herself up. She ran a hand lightly over the dashboard, murmuring, "Oh, very nice. Very classy. Rental or something else?" Jack merely smiled at her, eyes twinkling with mischief. Lacey, picking up on the game immediately, added, "Ahhhh, so it's for you to know and me to find out. Okay, boyo, I'll play that game." The first place she checked was the glove compartment. Not that she expected him to put any information in there. . .that was the first place most people checked, and Jack most definitely wasn't most people. Her companion simply laughed softly, the one that could turn her into a drooling mess, and she shot him a mock-glare.

"Have fun, sweeting. It'll keep you occupied until we get to Carlo's. Nice place, by the way. Reminds me of Pompeii before Vesuvius blew in some ways," he replied, easing the SUV (black, naturally) out into traffic. Lacey didn't bother asking him for details. Jack was a time traveler, after all. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and then sulked for a while. Lacey bit back a grin and continued to search for the information on the car as Jack began detailing adventures he had in a toga (and out of one, too). Since The Kiss two years earlier, he stopped hiding that part of him from her. . .and oddly enough, their friendship only improved. Or maybe not so oddly. Jack no longer had to protect her from his pheromones or from his darker side. He could relax, be himself.

By the time they reached the restaurant, Lacey still hadn't found the paperwork (surprise, surprise), but she heard countless stories about Jack through space and time, sometimes with clothes and sometimes without. He rarely told her stories about the Doctor though, or Rose, whom he also mentioned. The more Lacey thought about it, the more she thought her mom was right. . .he didn't tell stories about those two because he genuinely loved them. She could understand. They were kinda sacred, the way she rarely talked about The Kiss. Anika was a rarity. . .in more than one way. As he had when they left the apartment, Jack opened the door for her and offered his arm. At the door, they were met by Carlo himself. . .and that alone warned her that Jack was up to something. Probably payback for pinching his cheek. That was okay. She could live with that. Twould be an interesting night, no matter what happened.

TWTWTWTWTWTW

She had a habit of looking at him, as if trying to figure out whether she should believe him or not as he told her stories of his travels, then giving what amounted to a mental shrug. Her way of saying it didn't really matter, he supposed. But she listened intently, and answered his questions about this upcoming semester, her last year in college. No, she hadn't made any decisions about what she would do once she finished her schooling. . .she knew from listening to him about the gap year, but didn't that generally come before university in Europe?

It did, he acknowledged, but she was American, as she reminded him every time he corrected her on the great 'suspenders vs. braces' debate. That made her laugh, as it was meant to, then returned her attention to the even greater question of what came next. She might teach, although the idea of dealing with unruly youngsters really didn't thrill her. Jack couldn't blame her there, although he did believe she had the patience for the job. That led to a conversation about her baby sisters. Bronnie was twelve now (!), even more of a tomboy, and heading to middle school or was it junior high? It seemed to vary and Jack was still working out the American school system. Cissie was six and very much the little princess. Jack loved watching Lacey's expressions change as she talked about her sisters, remembering that combination of affection, indulgence, and exasperation from those years before Gray was taken.

After dinner was cleared away and the staff ever so obligingly sang 'happy birthday' to her (although not so the entire restaurant could hear), the bill was paid and they began a leisurely stroll toward the playhouse. They had thirty minutes before the show, and it was a five minute walk. Lacey's hand was tucked into the crook of Jack's elbow as they continued to talk. Eventually, conversation turned to Jack. . .what he was doing, if he could talk about the most recent mission. One thing about the Keller family: their acceptance when he told them that there was something he couldn't share was priceless. Once he mentioned classified, the subject was dropped. . .there was no pressure or questions of trust. For that alone, Jack loved the Kellers.

Dinner was outstanding, the musical was as enjoyable as ever and Jack delighted in the sound of Lacey's giggles, just as he delighted in the sensation of her head resting against his shoulder trustingly. After the show, they left the playhouse together, hand in hand, Lacey singing slightly off-key. Jack simply smiled and listened, swinging their joined hands as they walked back to the car. Of course, it couldn't last. They were in the car and headed back to Lacey's apartment building when something bipedal and decidedly not human, or Earth-based animal, ran out in front of the car. Jack swore and hit the brakes, pausing just long enough to make sure Lacey was okay, then gunned the engine and began chasing after. . . whatever it was.

Lacey choked out, "What is that thing? It's heading toward the college!" Jack didn't answer at first, keeping his quarry in his sights and in the headlights. Bipedal, obviously intelligent based on the way it left the road once it noticed it was being followed. Not good, no matter how he sliced it. It was highly unlikely that it came through the Rift in Cardiff, unless it somehow stowed away on a freighter. Which he didn't think especially likely, but 'unlikely' was a far cry from 'impossible.' And, to her credit, Lacey didn't ask again, trusting him to answer in his own time. . .time which was delayed when Jack ran out of drivable terrain. He swore under his breath, slammed on the brakes, and put the car in 'park.'

"I've never seen anything like that, but I can tell you it doesn't belong here," Jack finally replied, unbuckling and racing to the back of the SUV. He wasn't sure if he would need a weapon, but if he did, the one he needed would be in the boot. Lacey, may her god bless her, followed suit and joined him at the boot of the SUV as he sifted through the contents for what he needed. No, no, no. . .what the hell was that doing in here? _Dammit, Clay_! He saw Lacey blink at an obviously familiar bag lying to one side, and added, "Your mother's idea. She seems to think that I'm a trouble magnet and wanted something for you in case something like this happened. She may have a point there." An involuntary smile quirked at the corners of her mouth.

"Remind me to thank her for that later, on the second; and as for the first observation? Kinda figured that one out on my own, Jack, but thanks anyhow," Lacey pointed out in an admirably calm voice. Jack smiled at her as he withdrew the gun he would need if things went pear shaped. The trouble was, if he didn't know what it was or how it got here, it was highly likely that things were already pear-shaped. But, he had to at least try to communicate with it, not just for his own sake, but for Lacey's and for Earth as a whole. With the way his luck often ran, it would end up being the offspring of the monarch of a planet that didn't much care that Earth was a class five planet. Of course, if he didn't have to kill it, there would be other complications, but those were easier to live with. Lacey added, rubbing her hands up and down her forearms (never mind that it was hardly chilly out this evening, much less cold), "So what's the plan?"

"Do you want the truth or should I lie to you?" Jack inquired, half in fun and full in earnest. She merely glowered at him. _Right. Stupid question_. After all, she was John and Corinna's daughter, and neither was known for their patience with falsehood. He sighed, "Okay, truth it is, then. I'm gonna try to talk him or her or whatever it is into leaving or at least surrendering to me. The trouble is, there's a very good chance that won't work and things will turn violent. _Extremely_ violent. That's why I need you to remain hidden. If I'm right and things go pear-shaped, I have to know you're safe. You want to know how you can help me? You stay safe. I'll die, but I'll come back. You won't. Can you do that for me?"

She wanted to argue. He could see it in her eyes. Could see the mulish desire to stay and fight at his side. And he could see the moment when that mulish wish gave way to acceptance. She didn't like it. He didn't like it either, for that matter. But there was a good chance any attempt she would make at helping him would end up back-firing. Not because she wasn't smart, but because she didn't have the experience that he did. And if he didn't know what this was, what chance did Lacey have? Finally, Lacey said softly, "Where do you want me to hide?" Jack looked around, and saw a copse of trees in the opposite direction from where the being was headed, and Lacey nodded, sighing, "Just promise me that you'll be careful, please? I won't ask you not to get yourself killed, but try to be careful?" Jack reflected a bit ruefully that he was the only person he knew who ever got a request like that, but understood what Lacey was asking. No foolish risks. That was one promise he had no trouble making. The only thing that generally hurt worse than dying was coming back to life.

"Do my best, kiddo. That's the most I can do," he promised, cupping her face in his hands and pressing a light kiss to her forehead. Lacey's hands came up to cover his, and for a moment, Jack wished he could kiss her properly. But her safety was more important and so he whispered, "Go. Break cover only if you have no other choice, understand?" Lacey nodded, blinking back tears, and Jack swatted her bum to get her moving. He'd pay for that later, judging from her glare, but it was worth it. Once Lacey was a safe distance away, Jack called, pitching his voice just loud enough for the unexpected visitor to hear him and carefully speaking in Standard, "HELLO! Welcome to Earth. My name is Captain Jack Harkness, and you are?"

Much to his surprise, his quarry turned and responded in the same language, "Here to kill you, Jack Harkness, and one other, oh companion of the Doctor." Oh, shit. Jack swung up the weapon, but before he could even aim the gun, the bounty hunter (most likely) re-materialized in front of him, swatted the gun out of his hand, and ripped open his gut, all in one motion. Jack slumped back against the car, struggling to remain conscious as his killer gloated, "I was told that you protected Earth, Companion, but hadn't hoped to find you here. It would seem that my primary mission will be even easier to accomplish with your death. However, since you tried to be honorable, I will not take a trophy, and I will leave your little one alive." Little one? Lacey. _Lacey, stay hidden, stay safe_, he thought as his vision grayed.

Stay safe. . .

TWTWTWTWTWTW

It was hardly the first time she saw Jack die, but this was probably the most horrific way yet. Lacey watched in silence from behind a tree as Jack called out to the alien. It looked like a cross between the 'Predator' in the movies of the same name and Boba Fett in the 'Star Wars' trilogy. That was freaky enough, but when Jack called out to it and it answered, Lacey was horrified to see Jack rock back on his heels a little. It surprised him, badly. That didn't bode well for either of them. Not at all. _Trust him_, she told herself, _because if you don't trust him, you're both dead._ And she couldn't do that to Jack, not after all he'd done for her and her family.

If seeing Jack's obvious shock and even more obvious concern was bad enough, it was even worse when Jack brought the heavy-duty gun at his side up to bear toward the alien. But nothing was as shocking as the alien disappearing, reappearing in front of Jack and swiping the gun out of his grasp. A nanosecond after that, the monster eviscerated her friend and Lacey literally bit down on her hand to keep from screaming. She didn't even remember moving her hand to her mouth. She watched Jack collapse against the SUV and the alien saunter away. It wasn't running away. . .but moving purposefully. Toward the college. For a moment. . .a long moment, really. . .Lacey thought about staying put. Jack had more experience against the weird and bizarre than she did, and he was dead. Temporarily, but still dead.

But she was still John and Corinna Keller's daughter, and they taught her to stand up to evil. Maybe her roommate and others would have issues with calling the being that killed her friend 'evil.' Right now, she didn't care. And yes, it was possible for Jack to come back in time to stop that thing himself, but did she really want to take that chance? She wasn't sure how long it would take Jack to resurrect, and it might be time the students at the university didn't have. She didn't want to move from her shelter. She didn't want to risk her own life like this. She really, really didn't. But she also knew she couldn't live with herself if people died because she was too afraid to leave the safety of the trees. She at least knew what that was capable of. . .how many would die because they simply froze?

And so, Lacey crept out of the copse of trees which sheltered her. The alien that killed Jack had its back to her, so she was able to make it from the trees to Jack's side. He was still dead. . ._oh, God, poor Jack_! She shuddered in horror and sympathy. However, she focused on the being striding toward the dorms of the innocent students. And then, she focused on the gun lying beside Jack. The damn thing was easily bigger than she was. . .maybe even twice as big, and looked heavy. Twice her weight? Lacey's mouth firmed with determination. _You can do this_, she counseled herself, _Jack taught you how to use a gun, even ones that are bigger than you are. You __**can**__ do this. You __**will**__ do this_!

It took a little more work than she anticipated. It was heavier than she was, as well as bigger, but Lacey managed to lift it, find the trigger, release the safety and fire it at the retreating figure of the alien. It missed. Naturally. It turned back and seemed to be leering at her. Leering! It began to approach them both, saying something in the language it and Jack used earlier in a rather mocking tone. If this was the movies, if she was Jack, she would have had a smart-ass comeback for him, would have taunted him in her own language. But this wasn't the movies, she wasn't Jack, she was a scared college student who was trying to save other college students. As the alien drew within striking distance, Lacey adjusted her hold on the gun, so that more of the weight rested on the ground, and fired again. This time, her aim was true and the upper half of the alien disintegrated. Lacey put the safety back on, eased the gun to the ground and crawled over to Jack, drawing his head to rest in her lap. She leaned back against the SUV, exhausted, and waited for Jack's gasp back to life.

TWTWTWTWTWTW

_Lacey!_

Jack Harkness drew in a deep gulp of air, bolting upright. The good news. . .he was lying in more or less the same place where he died, which meant he wasn't taken as a trophy. And that also meant whoever wanted him dead didn't know of his inability to stay dead. The bad news, he was moved, which meant. . . He looked around wildly, finding that the girl whose safety was paramount in his mind was safe and reclining against the SUV. That was the first welcome discovery. The next welcome discovery came when he noticed the alien who killed him was lying a few feet away, quite dead. As in, blown apart dead. Jack looked around, taking note of his own position and where Lacey reclined. His head, he realized, was resting in Lacey's lap when he came back to life, and he collapsed backward once more. Lacey began to stroke his hair once his head rested against her thigh, saying in a distant voice, "I broke cover, despite what you told me, Jack. I had to. It killed you, and then started heading for the college. I had to kill it."

It took a few seconds for the words to penetrate Jack's resurrection headache, but when it did, he sat up straight once more. He winced at the crack of pain that shot through his entire body at the sudden motion, but he ignored it. Lacey was alive. That. . .bounty hunter. . .was dead, and rather spectacularly at that. The math should have been simple, but he was too relieved to find Lacey alive to think about it when he awakened. He pressed one hand to Lacey's cheek. . .her skin was far too cool for his liking, and it was highly likely she was going into shock. _Dammit_! He shrugged out of the greatcoat, which was thankfully free of blood, and carefully wrapped it around Lacey's shoulders to warm her up.

"Lacey, sweetheart, look at me," he coaxed gently, kneeling in front of her. Her dark eyes shifted to his face, and he smiled at her tenderly, murmuring, "There's my girl. Can you tell me what happened after I died?" He knew what happened, but he needed her to re-focus her attention. There were no marks on her, but shock could kill, and he wasn't willing to take that chance with Lacey's safety. A pink tongue darted out, wet her lips, and Lacey swallowed hard. Jack hated himself for asking her to relive something so traumatic, but he was more afraid of what would happen to her if he _didn't_ do this.

"I. . .I was hiding in the trees, like you said, and heard you call out to. . .to whatever that was. It looked like a cross between the Predator and Boba Fett. It. . .it answered you, and I saw that whatever it said, it shocked you. . .even maybe scared you a little. That. . .that scared me. And then. . .and then it killed you," Lacey recited, her voice breaking as she reached his death. Jack stroked her hair back from her eyes with one hand, caressing her cheek with the other, trying to soothe her any way he could. She managed a small smile and went on, "I didn't want to break cover, Jack. I knew what you told me, but I was afraid of what would happen if I stayed. I was afraid of what that thing would do to the other students."

She broke off, shaking her head a little, her expression almost confused. Jack waited patiently, and after a moment, Lacey continued, "I broke cover. I know you told me not to, but I wasn't sure how long you would be dead. It was already heading away, so it didn't see me. And I was careful, Jack, just like you taught me. The gun. . .the gun was too big for me. I tried to lift it, but it was too heavy and it threw my aim off. So, I propped it up while it was heading back toward me, and this time. . .this time. . .when I fired, its torso just vanished." She stopped, mouth working, then looked up at Jack and asked, "Why didn't it re-materialize in front of me, after I missed the first time? Why did it walk back?"

"Shhh, I'm not mad at you. Yes, I told you not to break cover. . .but I also said, unless there was no other choice. What you did saved a lot of lives, and more to the point, you weren't stupid about it. You didn't take any foolish risks. I'm not mad at you at all, Lacey. . .I'm proud of you," Jack reassured her. That was the first and most important thing. He had to assure her that he wasn't angry with her for disobeying him. Technically speaking, yes, she did disobey him, but under the circumstances, he couldn't really blame the poor kid. Because she was right, on all counts. . .she had no way of knowing how long he would be dead, and given that thing's ability to teleport, he was afraid of what would have happened if she didn't act. Her eyes cleared a little and Jack went on, "Now, to answer your question. . .do you want me to tell you the truth?" She needed a minute to think about that. Again, he wasn't at all disappointed in her. It was to be expected. But finally, she bobbed her head once and Jack admitted, "I don't know why it walked back. It was here, in part to kill me, but also to kill someone else. It's possible that it was just a sadistic bastard. . .or bitch. . .who wanted to see your fear before it killed you."

He wasn't telling her that to frighten her. He knew that it would frighten her, but it wasn't his intent. And she did ask for the truth. Lacey nodded slowly, and then said, "Like I said, I propped up the gun, and this time, everything from the waist up disintegrated. I dropped the gun-I think I remembered to put the safety back on-and pulled you into my lap, waited for you to wake up." She blinked back tears, the shock now giving way to horror, and whispered, "I killed it. I've never killed anything but an insect before. I killed it, and I'd do it again." Unspoken was her fear that this understanding made her a bad person. He would deal with that later, when she was somewhat more rational. For now, however, Jack smothered a curse and simply pulled her into his arms, letting her cry. He dropped a light kiss on the top of her head, wishing he had the words to comfort her.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. As soon as I saw that thing, I should have taken you home and gone after it alone. You shouldn't have had to deal with this on your birthday," he whispered. The trouble was, even as he said the words, he knew there was no way he could have managed that. He never would have found the damn thing a second time. Yes, it might have come looking for him, but its other target may have died in the meantime. And that just wasn't an acceptable outcome for him. Even if it did traumatize Lacey. Yes, he knew he was a ruthless bastard, but when all was said and done, this was the best possible outcome. Lacey pulled back, still sniffing, and her expression told him that she knew that particular truth.

"It would have been too late. We did the best we could, Jack, with everything that went on. You can't take responsibility for everything that happens in the world. You've got broad shoulders, but not broad enough for that. You wanna blame someone, blame that turd of a bounty hunter or whatever it was, not yourself," she told him. Jack had to smile. She was still pulling herself out of her shock, yet she was trying to comfort him. Her expression was clearing, but Jack knew it wasn't over, not yet. This was just the first stage. . .over the next few weeks and months, she would continue to deal with what happened tonight. He'd call John and Rinna later to tell them what happened. They'd probably want to shoot him a few times, and he would let them, but someone needed to watch over Lacey once she returned to Indiana.

He wiped away her tears with his thumbs and Lacey asked hoarsely, "Are you okay? Will you be okay to drive. . .oh. Do you have a cell phone with you?" Jack silently dished out the small, compact mobile and handed it to Lacey. She blinked, obviously expecting the bulky bag phone, but shook her head and quickly dialed a number. While she was doing that, he put the gun back into the SUV's boot. He had to give her credit: her voice shook only a little as she said, "T-Rex? Yeah, it's me. We ran into some trouble after we left the playhouse. . .do you mind if we come by the apartment and clean up before we head back to my place? No, nothing like that. Yeah. Thanks. No, I'll make dinner for you next week, before I leave for home. Yes, even that. . .I told you I don't mind making it if I have plenty of time to prepare. See ya then. Thanks again." She flicked the mobile shut and returned it to Jack, saying, "We can get showers at his place. Do you want me to drive?"

Jack was on the verge of saying 'no,' when a wave of dizziness swamped over him and he gritted his teeth. Lacey's hand touched his shoulder, and she said quietly, "I'm driving." There would be no arguing with her when she had that note of determination in her voice, and Jack really wasn't feeling up to arguing with her anyhow. She made another executive decision by rising to her feet and wrapping her arm around Jack's waist, drawing one of his arms across her shoulders. He breathed out, his resurrection headache returning in full force, and didn't object to leaning against her. Right now, he just didn't have the strength for anything else.

She walked him around to the passenger's side of the car and helped him inside, murmuring, "That's right, I left my purse in the car when we got out. Okay, I don't have to go back into the woods after it." There was a wealth of relief in her voice. Jack closed his eyes and leaned his head against the headrest, relaxing for the first time since he first saw the alien bounty hunter. He ached all over and he was still worried about Lacey, but for now, she was holding things together. She said softly as she got into the driver's seat, "I need to remember to thank Mama for that spare bag. . .do you have one?" Jack nodded, not bothering to open his eyes. The engine started up and she went on softly, "I wonder who else it was here to kill?"

"No idea," Jack murmured, "didn't say." Lacey hummed and fell silent for several moments as she drove back to the road. As she drove, her breathing grew steadier, more regular, as if the task of driving served to focus her attention. That was good. It would hit again later, the shock of what she had to do, but he would make sure that even if he wasn't around, there would be someone to take care of Lacey. The best idea might be to accompany her back to Indiana when her business here was wrapped up. He would ask her about that the following day.

"Jack? Why did I succeed?" Lacey asked, startling the immortal into opening his eyes. He looked over at her, and she continued, looking troubled, "I'd never even handled that gun before, couldn't handle it properly, don't have the training or experience you do. . .so why was I able to kill that. . .Predator type thing? I should be dead as well." Jack shuddered at her statement, but he understood where she was coming from. And, he had an answer for her. He just hoped she would accept what he had to say, because, he acknowledged, it could be hard.

"You were lucky," he answered, "but there was more to it than that. Yes, you were lucky, but you're also wrong when you say you've had no training. I've taught you to defend yourself, and I know your father has done the same. I died because I attracted its attention, trying to ascertain its intentions. You knew its intentions, it didn't regard you as a threat, and you used the element of surprise to your advantage. So yes, you were lucky, but you were also smart. Not just in using the element of surprise, but in finding another way to use the gun. You weren't strong enough to lift the gun properly, so you found another way."

Lacey nodded once more, still looking troubled, but he was growing more confident that she would be all right. He relaxed again, but not so much that he was in danger of dozing off. Lacey would need to talk about what happened to her tonight. She would need to talk to someone, whether it was him, her parents, or anyone who understood the stress and agony of taking a life for the first time. This time, it was he who broke the silence, saying softly, "I _am_ sorry about tonight, sweetheart. I really wanted your twenty-first birthday to be wonderful." He carefully avoided any reference to 'special,' 'memorable,' or anything other than 'wonderful' or 'perfect.' Unfortunately, tonight would be entirely too memorable for the poor girl.

"Jack, if you're afraid that you spoiled my birthday, you did anything but. You took me to one of my favorite restaurants, to a show I've loved since the first time I saw it. . .even if I didn't get half the references the first time around," Lacey answered dryly. He grinned at that and Lacey went on, "So. No feeling guilty about 'spoiling' my birthday, 'cause you didn't. And if the choices are between an uneventful birthday without you or tonight with you. . .I'd choose you. You are totally worth every minute." Jack looked at her, completely wrong-footed not just by the words, but the rock-solid conviction in Lacey's voice. She meant it. She meant every damn word she said, and that odd feeling of warmth returned to Jack's chest. He didn't examine what it meant too closely. . .it scared him too much. They were both silent for several months, then Lacey added, almost under her breath, "You know, that line in _Friendship_ about 'if they ever put a bullet through your brain, I'll complain,' takes on a whole new meaning with you."

Jack did a double-take, staring at her in shock. It wasn't funny. Or rather, she wasn't trying to be funny, she was one hundred percent serious. And more than likely, she didn't even mean for Jack to hear what she said (although, if that was the case, she should have known how excellent his hearing was). But as her statement ran through his mind, the immortal burst out laughing. It took her a minute to realize what she said, then the corners of her mouth turned up and she began to laugh as well. Another release of tension, but Jack would take laughter over tears any day of the week. Still giggling, the girl told him, "I wasn't trying to be funny, you know. . .and stop laughing like that! I damn near ruined a pair of panties the first time I heard you laugh like that!"

_Oh really_? Lacey just blushed, and Jack was sure that if she turned any redder, the roots of her hair would change color as well. He winked at her, making her laugh again. Small giggles continued to escape Lacey as she drove. Jack did nothing more to make her laugh, knowing that there was a fine line between laughter and tears, and an even finer line between laughter and full-blown hysteria. Nor did he tease her about laughing so quickly after taking a life. She would deal with that when she was ready, and not a second before. Which reminded him. . .he withdrew his mobile and sent a text to his old associate Clay, who was in town for his own reasons, with the coordinates of what remained of the alien bounty hunter. There was no point in borrowing trouble at this point.

With the text sent, and Clay's acknowledgement (_what the hell did you do this time, old man, or don't I want to know? Never mind, I'll take care of it_), Jack relaxed once more. Lacey seemed to be all right, though he was nearly sure now that he would wait until she was safely home in Indiana before he took his next mission. He thought again about the song which prompted Lacey's statement, and had to smile. No, the friendship he shared with the entire Keller family wasn't a perfect one.

But it was the closest to a perfect friendship he'd ever come. And that was more than good enough for him. Jack closed his eyes and let the wind, the movement of the car, and the sound of the engine lull him. When they reached Theodore Galloway's apartment, he'd get a shower and ask the intriguingly-nicknamed T-Rex to keep an eye on Lacey for those times when Jack couldn't be there until they left. Taking a life for the first time was never easy, should never be easy, and despite her laughter a few minutes earlier, Jack knew it would haunt her for some time. It was his fault she had to kill, and he would make sure she was all right. It was what friends did.

TBC

Additional author's note: I don't know if it's canon, but ever since I came across Jack having resurrection headaches, it made perfect sense. Sure, he resets, but that's got to be a shock to the system, and he did say in _Everything Changes _that his resurrections hurt (like being dragged across broken glass, I think is how he put it). So if it's not canon and it was originally your idea, I apologize. Let me know your name (or if you know who originated it), and I'll be more than happy to give credit where credit is due in later stories.


	2. Pillow Talk

Disclaimer: Jack belongs to the BBC and Starz. Eliot Spencer belongs to _Leverage_. John Keller belongs to the _Transformers_ movie franchise. All other characters belong to me.

Author's Notes: And here's new chapter of _Just a Perfect Friendship_. I've seen a few others weigh in on _Miracle Day_, and the best summation of my own feelings is. . .mixed. There's a lot I have issues with or don't like (cough::Gwen::cough), but I _really_ like Esther (she's now my second favorite character). Getting a little sick of the Jack-abuse, though. Okay. . .make that _very_ sick of the Jack-abuse. For anyone who is reading this, this will be my last update before I leave for DragonCon at the end of the week.

Chapter Two

Pillow Talk

Just outside Zagreb, Croatia

August 1995

It hadn't been one of his better days.

More than two months earlier, after leaving Lacey Keller with her family in Indiana, Jack Harkness left for Europe. They would see to her and help her deal with the trauma of taking a life, and John and Corinna made it very clear that they weren't happy with him for taking Lacey into such a dangerous situation. That was fine, he understood that. Besides, he had work to do. Several agencies similar to Torchwood learned of his reputation as an operative (as well as his inability to die, thanks in no small part to the current head of Torchwood One, Yvonne Hartman) and asked for his assistance with alien artifacts. This was how he eventually found himself in Croatia, only weeks after the successful conclusion of Operation Storm, and the resolution of the Croatian war for independence. His old friend Jadranko Zdravac learned of an item that he found suspicious at best and sought Jack's help in retrieving and neutralizing the item (if possible). Jadranko sent a new kid with him, a painfully familiar youngster named 'Eliot Spencer.' Clay's nephew. Wonderful.

Jack had the vague outline of a plan, which he shared with his temporary partner, and things were going well until near the end of the mission, but Eliot. . . ahhh, Eliot. The boy reminded him of a weird cross between his uncle and Jack himself at the same age, complete with the same youthful assurance that he was indestructible and his smart mouth. He pissed off the guards (while still holding the artifact). At which point, the kid was sent on with the aforementioned artifact while Jack. . .distracted the guards. This, yes, translated as '_let them beat the hell out of him_.' He winced, rubbing his side. Not one of his better plans, but it worked and neither he nor Eliot died. On the other hand, he'd really been looking forward to spending tonight with Jadranko and the other man had a rule about not sleeping with Jack after he'd been hurt, despite Jack's accelerated healing. His friend looked much older than Jack now, but there were times when the youngster whose father was murdered by a body snatcher peeked through. Oh well. Maybe another night. He was almost to his own room now, and when he got there, he'd. . .

Even as the thought crossed Jack's mind, he was propelled forward into the wall by a pair of strong hands (_ow_), which proceeded to spin him around. Then Jadranko was kissing him fiercely, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. And if his old friend thought his groan came from need, that was fine. . .even if his ribs were still tender from the beating he'd taken. With his massive arms still wrapped around Jack's waist, Jadranko physically picked him up and carried him into the room. He was unceremoniously dumped on the bed, but as Jadranko turned to close the door behind him (ooh, Jack was slipping. . .should have thought to kick it closed), the immortal was sliding the braces from his shoulders and removing his shirt. The other man turned to face him, eyes dark with desire, and said, "You will take off no more clothing."

Jack offered his most flirtatious smile, responding, "Oh, I won't, will I?" Jadranko growled and the sound skittered pleasantly along Jack's nerves. The immortal's host began to move toward the bed in his most predatory fashion, eyes focused only on the man propped up on his elbows on the bed. As it turned out, he was right. . .Jack didn't take off any more clothing. Jadranko did that. . .or he cut it off, in the case of his undershirt. He hissed, seeing the bruises covering Jack's torso, and very gently kissed each one. That was nice. Of course, after that, Jadranko treated him as if he was as fragile as the porcelain dolls he'd bought for Cissie Keller across Europe. Which wasn't that unusual, since Jadranko was now much bigger than Jack and feared hurting him. . . but this time, he was even more careful than usual.

Not that he had much time to think, much less understand, anything for the next hour. Jadranko still remembered where and how to touch him, not allowing Jack to do anything more strenuous than running his hands over Jadranko's skin. But the simple truth was, Jadranko needed to know that Jack was truly all right, and Jack. . .Jack needed to feel tender hands against his skin, needed this touch. He did have the Kellers (usually), but John and Corinna weren't here, and even if they were, they would have never. . .oh. Jack's eyes rolled back and he moaned softly at the touch of Jadranko's mouth against his skin, at the sensations now wracking his body.

"Still so beautiful, Jack, still as beautiful as when I was a boy," Jadranko whispered, his breath ghosting across Jack's skin, causing the Torchwood operative to shudder, "and just as tactile. I always loved touching you, you know, and so did Natasa. It wasn't just the way your skin felt then, and feels now, but the sounds you made when we touched you. Do you remember the first time all three of us were together? It was right after you were attacked for protecting Natasa, and we held you between us?" But even as he raised that rather painful memory, Jadranko was chasing it away with his kisses and his touch. Jack did remember a night of bone-shattering pain, but more importantly, he remembered Natasa stroking his hair tenderly as Jadranko held him protectively against his body.

And now, Jadranko was touching him in all his most sensitive spots. The immortal trembled and shivered, as much from anticipation as actual pleasure. The other man murmured, brushing a kiss across Jack's shoulder, "You were hurt tonight, because you were helping me, and saved a foolish child from his own pride. I intend to repay pain with pleasure, my beautiful friend, I intend to pleasure you to the point of sexual exhaustion." Jadranko always was a man of his word. It wasn't long at all before Jack's world went white and when he could see again, Jadranko was gently stroking his hair. Of course, the wrist with his VM was also tied to a bedpost, but it wasn't as painful as it could have been with his battered ribs. It also gave him an idea how long he was. . .erm. . .away. When he saw Jack's eyes open and (mostly) focused, Jadranko said smugly, "To borrow a phrase from young Eliot, I still have it." Jack managed a weak grin and Jadranko leaned down to steal a kiss before rolling onto his back once more.

They lay in silence for several moments, Jadranko lacing his fingers together with Jack's, and the younger-looking man asked finally, once he could draw a proper breath, "Not that I'm complaining, but where did that come from?" It wasn't simply because he was hurt today, Jack knew. No, there was something more. Jadranko rarely had the desire to shag Jack senseless the slow way. The other man rolled onto his side once more, still gripping Jack's hand, and traced his features slowly. Not exactly seductive, but Jack's breathing still hitched and Jadranko stole another kiss. Not that he had to, Jack would have given it for free, as Jadranko well knew.

"As I said, you are as beautiful as you were when I first met you. I hurt you during that first encounter, I know that," Jadranko replied. Jack immediately started to shake his head, trying to deny this. Jadranko was just eleven years old when they first met, and thought he saw Jack killing his father. However, Jadranko immediately placed his hand along Jack's face, murmuring as he traced Jack's lower lip with his thumb, "You should not argue with me on this, I know what I remember. You were just waking up from that thing killing you, and then I hurt you again. I told my mother about it, once she processed the truth about Father's death, and she said, '_then one day, you will make joy outweigh the pain_.' It wasn't until Natasa died that I understood. She, they, wanted me to look after you when I could, my mother and Natasa did, because you take care of other people." Right. . .and that didn't answer Jack's question. Jadranko wasn't finished, though, as he continued, "Joy, or pleasure, outweighs pain. What brings you joy, Jack? What makes you smile? _Who_ makes you smile?"

"You do," was Jack's response. He gasped when Jadranko rolled his eyes and moved his hand considerably lower. All right, not quite the response Jadranko was looking for, obviously. Jack forced himself to focus, despite the way his body was reacting to the soft caresses. Three times in one night? Maybe Jadranko figured that he would heal faster like this? Endorphins were wonderful things, after all. Didn't matter. Until Jadranko touched him just so, and suddenly it did matter. He gasped, "Being with the Kellers! Oh God, Jadranko." The other man smiled and kissed him again, but ceased the caresses. Both a good and bad thing. He could think now, but his body ached for the caresses once more.

"The Kellers? Ah yes, I remember hearing about them. He's in the American Army and she's from the American South. Despite your many invitations, they've never joined you in your bed. . .and I wonder if that's one reason why your friendship with them is so very strong. They have three daughters, ranging in age from twenty-one to six. And, if I remember correctly, the oldest daughter kissed you, much to your astonishment. Quite possibly the first time that's ever happened. . .being surprised when someone kissed you. Alexandra, correct?" Jadranko asked and Jack nodded. Yes, he'd told Jadranko about the Keller family in the past. . .and he'd surprised the revelation about Lacey kissing out of him. That was around the time Jadranko's son-in-law by way of his oldest daughter Vesna was killed and Jack spent several nights at the kitchen table, holding Vesna's hand as she cried her eyes out. Vesna eventually grew tired of crying and wanted to hear about his life and heartbreaks.

"Lacey kissed me when she was nineteen and I kissed her on her twenty-first birthday," Jack acknowledged. And he enjoyed both occurrences entirely too much. His feelings toward Lacey continued to trouble him. He never bought into the '_there are girls you shag and girls you marry_' theory, until he encountered the Keller family. And Lacey fell into the latter category. He was starting to understand Lacey's discomfort with him after she realized she was attracted to him, and he didn't like the feeling one bit. Sex and sexuality were never a subject of discomfort to him. . .on the other hand, this was the first time he was drawn to a close friend's daughter, a girl he'd watched grow up. This was a very dangerous path for him to walk, and while Jack was no stranger to dangerous situations, this was. . .ah, this was a little different and required more caution. And that alone scared the hell out of Jack.

"And?" Jadranko prodded. Jack simply looked at his friend. _And what_? What, precisely, did Jadranko expect him to say? The other man rolled his eyes, lowering his head, and did something with his teeth that nearly shorted out Jack's brain. When he could focus once more, Jadranko was staring down at him, looking rather annoyed, and his friend asked, "There's more to it than that, isn't there? If there wasn't more to it than that, you wouldn't be so damnably tight-lipped." Jack groaned aloud as Jadranko's hands moved over his body, making it bloody impossible for him to focus long enough to answer his questions. . .or to focus, period. Jadranko stroked him again, repeating, "What troubles you so about this?"

"She'll die," he gasped as the caresses continued, his true fears flooding out, "oh God, Jadranko! She'll die or she'll end up hating me, the way Lucia did, the way Melissa will. She's so damn young, never been with anyone, so innocent, I'll lose her entire family if I lose her, deserves so much better, so much more than I can give her. . .**JADRANKO**!" He threw his head back against the pillows, writhing now. . .as much as he could with the large body surrounding him, covering him. He couldn't quite help the whimper of need which escaped him. At long last, Jadranko took pity on him and once more, Jack lost track of his surroundings.

When his mind cleared, Jadranko was smiling down at him and saying softly, "You cannot evade when you're not thinking, old friend. There's truth in wine and truth in sex. Alexandra isn't like Lucia, Jack, though I know you can't believe that right now." That wasn't entirely true. It wasn't that he distrusted Lacey, or believed that she was like Lucia, but he would lose her. One way or another, he knew that he would lose her and there were times when Jack wasn't sure if he was strong enough to let himself love again. Of course, his heart usually ended up making that choice for him anyhow. There was also the matter of losing the rest of the Kellers if he totally mucked things up with Lacey. . .and that was always a strong possibility.

"That," Jack said when he could finally catch his breath, "was a very dirty trick." Not that he had a lot of credibility there. . . he played dirty, too, when he believed it necessary. Jadranko responded with a look that was both tender and frankly disbelieving. Jack winced a little as he slowly became aware of small aches and pains all over his body, but asked, "So, Dr. Zdravac, what should be my next move, in your professional opinion?" Jadranko rolled his eyes and lightly brushed his fingers along Jack's sides. The immortal yelped and squirmed away from the wiggling fingers. Definitely delving into his bag of dirty tricks, Jadranko was. Unfortunately, for every dirty trick that Jack taught him, there were five others that he learned from someone else. It was those dirty tricks that Jack was wary of.

"You say that you have nothing to offer her. Let's start there. Do you care for her?" Jadranko asked once he stilled his fingers. Jack didn't even have to think about that. There wouldn't be an issue if he didn't care for her so much. When he nodded, Jadranko continued, "So that's something you have to offer. Next question, does she make you laugh and can she talk to you? Aside from when she feels as if she needs to protect you from her emotions, that is." Jack needed a minute to think about that. . .but only a minute. He had only to remember Lacey sitting beside him in the SUV after she killed the bounty hunter, the wind whipping about her dark hair, her dry sense of humor poking through the shock and shattered nerves. In his mind's eye, he could see her propped up against the SUV, cradling his head in her lap until he revived. He thought of all the conversations they had since Lacey learned he couldn't die, and again, he nodded. Jadranko went on, "That's even better. You can talk to each other and make each other laugh. And from what I've heard, she's as protective of you as you are of her."

Welllllll. . .yeah. That was also true. But. . . Jadranko pressed a finger against Jack's lips, effectively shushing him, and added, "So how can you say you have nothing to offer her? You care for her deeply, you're already very good friends. . .I'm guessing she knows about your inability to stay dead?" Again, Jack nodded and Jadranko asked, "How did she react? Did she believe it was a good thing, or was she an adult and realize what the cost to you is and has been?" He must have seen his answer in Jack's expression, for he murmured, "Ahh. So she reacted as Natasa and my mother did." Not entirely, though Jadranko's late mother Marija and late wife Natasa did weep when they learned about his unending existence. It wasn't simply his seeming-immortality that broke the ladies' hearts, but the uncertainty of his existence and the agony of his deaths and resurrections. Of course, it didn't help that Natasa was standing only a few feet away during one of his resurrections. Oh no. That didn't help at all.

"She. . .I really expected her to hate me. I actually braced myself for her screams and revulsion. She keeps surprising me, though. I expected her to hate me for not being able to die, and she hated the situation, rather than me. That was the first surprise. I expected her to hate me for not fighting the decision to turn the children over to those aliens back in '65, and she told me that she knows a few things about chain of command and that it may have been worse if I did anything differently. That was a bigger surprise. And we won't discuss how much of a surprise it was when she kissed me," Jack observed. Jadranko actually snickered and Jack rolled his eyes. Yeah, yeah, yeah. . .a nineteen year old girl got the better of him.

Jadranko kissed his shoulder again, murmuring, "You should call her, Jack. Have you spoken to her at all since you left the States?" Jack shook his head carefully, mindful of Jadranko's lips and teeth against his collarbone and the hollow of his throat. . .John and Corinna weren't especially happy with him for the events in Pennsylvania. Not that he blamed them, so he quietly left the country to allow them time to cool down. Yes, Lacey was an adult, and yes, she believed they took the best course of action, but she was still their daughter, and despite her insistence that there was no time to take her back to her apartment, her parents still weren't happy with him. And Lacey, true to form, wasn't happy with them, either. During a particularly intense argument shortly before Jack left for Europe, Lacey told her parents that she wouldn't have allowed Jack take her back to the apartment, and that she wanted to be there to guard his back. And she did that for him, overcoming her own terror and his death to do it.

He explained this to Jadranko, adding, "I sent her an email once my plane landed, to explain why I left the way I did. The last thing I wanted was for her to have a falling out with her parents over me, and if she thought I left because of them, that would have happened. I. . .oh, God, Jadranko." His friend had abandoned his gentle, teasing caresses and simply pulled Jack into his arms, tenderly kissing the top of Jack's head. He couldn't bear to be the reason for Lacey having a falling out with her parents, not when they were leaving for a second honeymoon. Jack lost his family when the Peninsula was attacked. . .he didn't want that for Lacey, much less over him.

"Why do you work so hard to hide that wonderful, generous heart of yours, Jack? Why do you pretend to be a callous bastard, when I know the decisions you make during your missions devastate you? I know better than most what the costs are. . .I, who sent my son-in-law on what ended up being a suicide mission. You think you're protecting Alexandra by pretending that she's better off without you, but how can she be better off?" Jadranko whispered. The larger man pulled back, looked Jack in the face and added, his voice dropping even further, "You loved us, Jack. My mother, my wife, our daughters. . .you loved us all, and that makes us incredibly fortunate. You must not rob Alexandra of that joy. . .of having your love and loving you in return. It is worth it. For you and for her."

_Call her_, Jadranko was saying, but what did he say? Well, yes, his friend was saying more than simply call Lacey, but right now calling her was all Jack could do. He missed talking to her, missed hearing her laugh, and even missed her fierce, breath-taking hugs. Maybe he missed those most of all. Jadranko's hand on his midriff drew his attention back to his friend, who held a phone in his hand. Jadranko smiled down at him tenderly and mouthed, '_Call her_.' Jack tentatively accepted the phone, wondering if this was a really good idea. John and Corinna were out of the country on a second honeymoon, after their initial (and belated) honeymoon to the Hoover Dam was cut short by Corinna's fainting spell several months before Lacey's birth. Lacey was taking care of her two younger sisters. . . At last, he sighed with resignation, looked up at Jadranko and asked, "Any idea what time it is in Indiana? I can't see my VM." This was said with a pointed look at the arm attached to the bed.

Jadranko simply chuckled and replied, "A little past nine pm. Most likely, her youngest sister will be in bed, which should give you some privacy. Call her, Jack. And while you dial the number, I'll untie you." Jack nodded with a low sigh, and Jadranko circled around the bed. The immortal punched the number into the phone, gasping a little when his friend untied his wrist and lightly stroked the reddish marks left by his knots. Jadranko merely smiled down at him, brushing light kisses against his lips and the soft skin just under his navel. And then Lacey's soft voice was on the other end of the line, sounding absent-minded.

"Hey, Lacey-girl," he said and smiled when he heard the joy in the girl's answering 'hello.' He really had missed her. Pleasantries were exchanged and Lacey confirmed that yes, Cissie was in bed and hopefully asleep, and Bronnie was reading. Then again, she took the girls to the Soldiers and Sailors Monument in downtown Indianapolis and the Indianapolis Zoo that day, so it was a pretty good bet that Cissie crashed once her head hit the pillow. Jack had never been to either landmark, but in his experience, zoos were a wonderful way to wear out a child. Lacey giggled at that observation, no doubt remembering Jack carrying her on his shoulders during those rare occasions when he was able to accompany the Keller family to the zoo or any other outing, for that matter.

"So, what kind of trouble are you into or getting out of?" Lacey asked once their conversation about the girls was out of the way. Jack immediately protested that question, and Lacey simply snickered, adding, "Jack, I love you dearly, but you attract trouble the way honey attracts bears." The trouble with that statement was, she was one hundred percent correct and Jack knew it. He never had to go looking for trouble (although he did, on occasion), it often found him without any assistance. Lacey continued, "I know you're in Europe, as are Mom and Dad. . .delayed honeymoon, so they tell me. . .but where exactly?" And was there more than curiosity in her voice? He couldn't tell, at least, not yet. Besides, he had other things on his mind right now.

Such as the all-important information that she was still speaking to her parents. There was that. At least she was still speaking to her parents. That was a relief. He replied, lying back against the pillows, "Croatia. That was. . ." He stopped speaking when he heard the growl from his young friend. Lacey was studying history. She knew about Croatia. He added, "In any event, a friend noticed something not quite right and we decided the celebrations would be a good time to investigate. Everything worked out, I didn't even die once." He carefully didn't tell her about his foray with Eliot or the beating that resulted. He had no way of knowing if Lacey and Eliot would ever meet, but he did not want the girl hassling Eliot for being young and stupid, not when he did far worse things when he was young and stupid (world-ending stupid). And that wasn't taking into account what Lacey would say to Jack about getting hurt or sacrificing himself.

Instead, he steered the conversation back to her family, asking, "So, what's this I hear about a second honeymoon or delayed honeymoon for your parents? What part of Europe are they visiting?" He was willing to bet it was none of the countries the Kellers were stationed in during the course of John's career. . .except for Italy, since there were so many places they never got to visit during their time there. And, Jack was well aware of the incident that cut their initial honeymoon short, roughly nine months before Lacey was born. John and Corinna went to Hoover Dam, a trip that was cut short when Corinna fainted and remained unconscious for several hours. It, John admitted bluntly, scared the living hell out of him. Didn't do a lot for Jack's peace of mind when he found out, either, three weeks later.

"Scotland and Ireland, mainly. Possibly a side trip to the Isle of Man. You know that Mama's people are from Scotland and my paternal grandmother was from Ireland, so rather than choose between the two, they decided to go to both. I suggested Germany, since the Kellers are from there, but Dad was stationed there for a time, so that was out. They wanted to go to new places," Lacey replied. Pretty much what Jack expected, then. John really didn't tell him where they were going. . .he was still angry with Jack for the events on Lacey's birthday. There was a pause as she shifted her position, and then she asked quietly, "So, would you have told me that you were beaten up today? Or would I have just found out about that at some later date, when you weren't worried about me hurting someone?"

Jack's blood almost literally ran cold. How in the hell. . .? Lacey went on, "I know you, Jack, and I know when you're glossing over things. When you re-directed the conversation away from you and to my parents, I knew you were most likely glossing over the fact that you'd been hurt." There was a long pause, before she added, "Besides, Eliot Spencer called here, maybe an hour ago, at the request of Mr. Zdravac." Jack noted in a distant part of his mind that she pronounced the unfamiliar name with only the barest hint of hesitation. The rest of his mind was focusing on what he would do when he got his hands on his old friend, and on Eliot Spencer. Death would be too good for them both, especially Jadranko. He had _no_ business calling Lacey and upsetting her! But it was about to get worse, as Lacey continued, her voice somewhere between icy and shaking with rage, "Eliot Spencer told me about getting that artifact to safety and then running back to help you. Told me about finding you pinned and helpless while those thugs hit you."

"Lacey, I'm fine. A little banged up and bruised, but those bruises fade quickly, you know that. And I'm sorry you were upset. . .there wasn't any need for Jadranko to have Eliot call you, especially since there's nothing you could have done," Jack soothed. . .at least, as best as he could, given that he was angry enough to gut both men with a dull knife. Or better yet, a spoon. Especially once he realized that Eliot was most likely calling Lacey when Jadranko was having his wicked way with Jack. Another piece of the puzzle was falling into place, the real reason Jadranko came to his room tonight. And. . .why even call Lacey, why have Eliot call her, what purpose did that serve?

"They hurt you, Jack. Now, I couldn't do anything about Lucia being a back-stabbing bitch, and maybe I can't do anything about these thugs, but while I'm around, anyone. . .**ANYONE**. . .who hurts you will answer to me, and they won't like it at all!" Lacey vowed. Jack didn't know quite how to react to that, especially since he always viewed himself as her protector. . .hers and her sisters. And he didn't dare laugh at her. Not just because of what she would do to him if he did (he seemed to be immortal, but he certainly wasn't invulnerable), but because she didn't deserve it. She sighed after a moment, "I'm sorry, I'm being stupid. You're over a century old, you don't need me to protect you, I know that you can take care of yourself. It's just. . .I hate the idea of you being hurt."

"Don't apologize to me, Alexandra, not for that. Never apologize to me for that!" Jack retorted, suddenly angry at the resignation he heard in her voice. It shouldn't be possible to hear surprise in someone's silence, but he did, nonetheless. He gentled his voice, adding, "Never apologize for wanting to protect a friend, even if that protection isn't necessary. You wouldn't be Lacey without that particular trait. And I'm not real happy with the idea of someone hurting you, either. You can take care of yourself; your father, our other friends, and I saw to that, but I still want to protect you." '_You can take care of yourself. . .I still want to protect you_.' And with that, the final light bulb went on inside his mind. Oh yes. Things were coming very clear to him now. Not just Jadranko's seduction of him, but the reason for Eliot calling Lacey.

There was another brief silence, and then Lacey laughed a little, saying, "Oh, we're a pair, aren't we? I guess it's just part of caring for someone. Okay. I'm done yelling at you. I wasn't even angry with you. . .more like scared. Yeah, I know, you can't stay dead, but that doesn't mean you can't be hurt. You can, sometimes very badly, and I was. . ." There was a strange sound, like Lacey was trying to choke back a laugh. . .or tears. Jack's throat tightened at the noise, and Lacey whispered, "Eliot wouldn't tell me what they looked like, the guys who hurt you. Probably just as well. In the unlikely event that I ever met them, I'd probably leave them in a world of hurt. At the very least, blow out their kneecaps." The scary thing about that statement was how true it was. Lacey would do exactly that. And not for the first time, Jack was humbled by this girl's desire to look after him. Not because he was weak or unable to take care of himself, but simply because she cared for him.

Jack was still finding it hard to speak (something that was definitely unusual for him, finding himself at a loss for words), so Lacey went on, "I. . .uhm. . .was wondering if there was anything I could do for you. Eliot. . .uhm, when he called earlier, he said that you might need to hear a friendly voice, even though Mr. Zdravac was coming to talk to you. I wasn't sure if there would be much talking. . .no, I'm not asking, I don't want to know, I know it's none of my business. . .but I wanted to make sure you were really okay. I know that Eliot doesn't realize you don't stay dead and that you heal quickly, but. . .aw, hell!" Jack couldn't help but smile at the oh-so-familiar exasperation in her voice.

However, he didn't laugh, and instead, asked quietly, "What, exactly, do you have in mind?" When she was a little girl, Lacey seemed to understand when she should make him laugh and when she should simply crawl into his lap and hug him. Her younger sisters were showing signs of the same understanding, especially the baby of the family. Bronnie was getting to the age where she was liable to ask him if he wanted the source of his upset beaten up. Even more alarming, she would probably try it, too. The Keller children were strangely protective of the adults in their lives. Maybe it was something that children had in common as a whole. . .he honestly didn't know, and it had been too long since he was a child himself. And he didn't remember Gray being protective of him or of their parents.

Maybe it was just as well that he didn't remember these things, that he had no point of reference, because the next words out of her mouth completely shocked him. Lacey said with an odd combination of shyness and defiance, "I know you've heard of phone sex, but have you ever heard of 'phone comfort,' Jack?" **WHAT**? Did Lacey just mention phone sex, even in passing? Maybe T-Rex and David did an even better job of corrupting her than even any of them realized. Before he could respond, much less start questioning her about her two friends taught her, Lacey rushed on, "It's something that my former roommate Kara came up with, a phone version of what we used to do when we couldn't sleep. One of the others would come up with a scenario and talk us through it until we fell asleep."

"What _sort_ of scenario?" Jack questioned, somewhat reassured by Lacey's explanation, though not by his body's reaction when he thought of Lacey becoming involved in phone sex. It was becoming harder and harder to think of why that would be such a bad idea, he and Lacey together, especially after his conversation with Jadranko earlier. Yes, it was all part of a larger plan to keep him occupied while Eliot contacted Lacey, but the point still held. His mind continued to regard Lacey as no different from Melissa, but his body (and his heart) was strongly disagreeing. Normally, that would be a no-brainer for Jack (ignore what his mind was telling him, listen to his heart and body), but this was far from normal. Even for him.

"Well. . ." Lacey drawled out, "the first thing you need to do is make yourself comfortable. You don't need to tell me your position in the bed, I don't need to know that." Jack bit back a grin at the asperity in her voice. . .the affectionate exasperation. . .and arranged himself more comfortably in the bed, relaxing against the bed sheets and the pillows. His ribs really weren't ready for him to tuck his free arm behind his head, so he simply lay back. Lacey said softly, "I'm going to do something very dangerous here and assume you're comfortable now. . .yes, I know all about assuming, Jack! Now, close your eyes."

"Oh, do I gotta?" he teased gently, laughing at the exasperated huff. Lacey was usually so quiet and easy-going, with a wicked sense of humor popping out. 'Bossy' wasn't generally an adjective he ascribed to her, but it did fit. . .on occasion. Especially now, when his reward for his sassy comment was, '_don't argue with me_!' in a scolding voice. Jack laughed again and replied, wondering if his smile could be hearing in his voice, "Yes, ma'am, eyes are closed." He lay back, closing his eyes and awaited his next instructions from the dark-haired girl on the other side of the world.

Except, she didn't have instructions for him this time. Instead, she said softly, "I'm lying on the bed beside you. There's a soft breeze. . .from a fan or from an open window, it doesn't matter. I'm wearing thin cotton pajamas, and when you turn your head, just a little, you can rub your cheek against the fabric." Jack could actually feel what she described. . .the breeze blowing lightly through the room, the feel of cotton under his cheek. But he needed a little more. . . external stimulation. More information was definitely needed.

"What do you smell like?" he asked, already feeling more than a little drowsy. Whether it was because of his exertions with Jadranko, healing from the beating this afternoon, or the picture Lacey was painting with words in his mind, he was getting very sleepy very quickly. This wasn't quite what Jadranko had in mind when he told Jack to call Lacey, but right now, Jack didn't really care what the other man wanted or expected. When he woke up, he'd have a few words with his old friend about dragging Lacey into this. While he appreciated that Jadranko was trying to look after him, the other man went too far with Eliot's call.

For now, Lacey distracted him from his ire with Jadranko by telling him, "Soap and shampoo and the honeysuckle perfume that Mama got me for my eighteenth birthday." Yes, that made sense. . .Lacey loved the smell of honeysuckle and wore that perfume at every opportunity. Lacey continued after a moment, "I begin stroking your hair and forehead, smiling down at you, those lovely cornflower eyes of yours already starting to close." Well, she had part of that right and Jack didn't hesitate to correct her on what was incorrect.

"M' eyes aren't cornflower!" The sleepy protest sounded weak even to him, and he wriggled into a more comfortable position, his breathing slowing down. He could almost feel her hands moving over his temples and hair, fingers sliding through his fringe. There was a soft laugh from the girl on the other end of the line, the kind that always preceded a gentle chastisement, and did this time. She shushed him, and he shushed because even through his fatigue, he wanted to hear what she would say next.

"Shhh. I'm doing all the work this time, remember? No more interruptions, or you'll end up falling asleep before I'm finished, and we. . .well, that wouldn't be a problem, but I'd like to at least say good night to you. I continue to stroke your forehead and hair, and you shift toward me, throwing your arm over my hips. Your head comes to rest on my chest, so you can hear my heartbeat. I begin running my fingers through your hair, along the nape of your neck, across your shoulders, down your spine, and all along, you hear my heartbeat, feel my chest rise and fall with each breath. In. . .and out. In. . .and out."

Jack's breathing was in time with Lacey's, and as he drifted off to sleep, the very last thing he heard was a very soft, "I love you, Jack." But whether it was really Lacey or a memory, he couldn't have said.

TWTWTWTWTWTW

In the States, Alexandra Keller hung up the phone, leaning against the cushions of the sofa and blinking back tears. It would be necessary for her to check on her two sisters in just a minute, but right now, she needed to recover her composure, something that slipped away much earlier in the night. She hadn't expected to hear from Jack that evening, not after talking to the soft-spoken Eliot Spencer. If she had, she would have never gone on the offensive by confronting him about being beaten up. But oh God, her blood ran cold when Eliot told her about their mission, about getting whatever that thing was into safe hands, and then running back to assist Jack, only to find the opposition using him as a punching bag. Lacey's fingers had curled around the phone, her unfortunately-vivid imagination filling in the blanks.

She shouldn't have confronted him during what was a pleasant conversation. He didn't need her nagging at him like a damned fishwife, and he didn't deserve it. It wasn't like he'd done something incredibly stupid. . .he was hurt while protecting someone else, while trying to save the world from humanity's own stupidity. He was a grown man, had been taking care of himself for more than a century, and she was just his best friend's daughter, not his wife (even if her parents weren't really behaving like Jack's friends right now, but that was another issue entirely). But the idea of Jack being hurt was enough to make her normally-even temper ignite. Those thugs _hurt _Jack. They hurt him, they hurt someone whom Lacey loved, and she wanted to hurt them back. She wanted that so badly, it scared her.

The cushions of the sofa dipped and Lacey looked up as her younger sister Bronnie sat down beside her. The twelve year old took her hand, lacing her fingers together as Lacey did whenever she wanted to comfort the little girl, and the elder sister couldn't help but smile. Bronnie was known as the tomboy, but in some ways, she could be incredibly sensitive, sensing when her big sister desperately needed the contact. . .and the comfort. Lacey slipped her arm around Bronnie's shoulders, the little girl settling against her more comfortably, and couldn't help but laugh when Bronnie asked very seriously if she wanted her to beat Jack up for her. However, she simply replied, "No, sweetheart. . .he's battered enough as it is right now, and I'm stupid anyhow, but thank you for the offer."

Bronnie huffed in irritation, retorting, "You are **not** stupid, you're in love with him, and I think that's awesome!" Lacey raised her eyebrows at her little sister, not entirely sure how to take that. Then again, so far as Bronnie was concerned, Jack was simply the gorgeous family friend whom she saw ever so often. . .and didn't it just about give Lacey a heart attack when she heard her baby sister refer to Jack that way? She didn't realize yet that Jack was over a hundred years old, that he was from three thousand years in the future. . .and that it seemed he couldn't stay dead. Bronnie added, "And I know that he can't stay dead, Mama told me about what happened in Pennsylvania before you came home for the summer." Why she did that, when she and Dad were furious with Jack for those events, Lacey had no idea.

And that was one theory blown to hell. So, it was time for the rest of the story. But that phrase brought back memories of being six year old and curled against Jack's side, listening to Paul Harvey on the radio with Melissa on his other side in those days before Lucia took Melissa back to England. Lacey told her sister softly, "Like I said, I'm stupid. Listen to me, Bronnie. Jack does love us, I know that beyond any doubt. He wouldn't sacrifice himself so often for us if he didn't love us. But he's been waiting for someone for a very long time, and he might have to leave us anyhow once his exile is lifted. He'll leave us and go home to Cardiff. I'll get over it. I don't have any other choice." She hoped her voice was steady and resolute, rather than whiny, but right now, she wouldn't lay odds on it.

Bronnie huffed in irritation, saying, "Mama says that you've been in love with him since you were seventeen years old, that you've dated loads of other guys, but you're still in love with Jack. And who can blame you, he's incredibly hot and he's Jack! Maybe you don't have to get over him or it. He called you, right? He called you all the way from. . .well, from wherever he is. 'Sides, I see the way he looks at you sometimes, like there's a part of him that wants to pin you to the wall and snog you silly."

Lacey blinked. Did her little sister just say 'snog,' because Lacey was pretty sure she did. And she hadn't even realized that Bronnie knew that word. Unless she asked Jack. . .ooh, she didn't want to go there. Instead, she told her sister, "We went down that route once. Didn't get far. And in case Mama didn't mention it, Bronnie, Jack is a hundred forty years old. I'm twenty-one. What in God's name could I offer someone like that? Nothing-absolutely nothing that he can't get from someone else. Someone older, wiser, smarter. . .prettier." Bronnie, whose eyes widened when Lacey told her how old Jack was, simply glowered at her.

"Now you **are** being stupid. I think Mama was right when she said that she needs to lock you two in a closet again until you work things out, and both stop being such idiots. Only a smaller closet or room this time," Bronnie said flatly. Lacey responded with a dirty look for her sister, who responded, "I'm serious! The girls in the romance novels I read are being smarter. You love him, you want him." The youngster paused, stared at Lacey hard (and the older sister was scrambling to catch up), before continuing, "You **do** want him, don't you? I mean, like sex?"

"**Bronwyn**!" Lacey all but squeaked, thoroughly mortified by her sister's words. There weren't words for how inappropriate this conversation was. All right, she would admit to being something of a prude, but her sister was twelve. She was still supposed to think that boys were icky. . .wasn't she? The truth was, even when Lacey was twelve. . .hell. She couldn't remember. It was only nine years earlier, but she. . .she shook her head mentally. Was this how her parents felt when they realized that their first born wasn't a little girl any more, even though they believed she should be?

Moot point. Bronnie said, rather unrepentantly, "Well, you're the one who told me that sexy dreams were okay to have, that it was just part of growing up." Oh. Hell. That _was_ true. Lacey remembered that conversation, now that Bronwyn mentioned it. Still, she blushed rather fiercely and the younger girl said, "Oh. Oh, you **have** had sexy dreams about him, you've had sexy dreams about Jack! What were they like, tell me all about them, tell me where all you kissed him?" Lacey's face turned even redder, not just at the question, but at the memory of her dreams, of trailing kisses along Jack's torso and down his thighs and. . . Oh, God.

"I am **not** having this conversation with my twelve year old sister!" Lacey forced out, her normally pale cheeks now aflame with embarrassment. She cursed Eliot Spencer for calling, her sister for opening up this topic of conversation, herself for not trying harder to change the subject. . .and herself for even having those damned dreams to start with. She was so damn stupid. Jack could never feel about her the way she felt about him, and it served herself right to get her heart broken when she knew. . .when she knew better.

"Aw, come on! As if I don't hear it on the girls' locker room, or worse!" Bronnie complained. Lacey couldn't help herself, she actually squeaked, and Bronnie added hastily, "From the older girls, Lace, when I'm helping at the swim meets! 'Course, some of the girls say that they put their boyfriend's thing in their mouths." _Thing? Oh. . .thing_. Bronnie continued thoughtfully, "Why they would want to do that, I don't know. That's just gross. Ew." Her lips made a little moue of disgust. By now, however, Lacey's nerves were scratched raw, and what would have ordinarily amused here. . .right now, didn't.

"Bronwyn Nicole, can we please change the subject? I really don't want to talk about my feelings for Jack or how I want to kiss him all over and make him cry out my name, and I don't want to hear about how much smarter my twelve year old sister is about males than I am!" Lacey choked out. And then she thoroughly humiliated herself, and horrified her little sister, by bursting into tears. Bronnie cried out and threw her arms around Lacey, begging her not to cry, saying over and over how sorry she was, she didn't mean to upset her. Lacey struggled to calm down, painfully aware that she was upsetting her little sister. It wasn't Bronnie's job to take care of her, after all. But her fears for Jack, her irritation with her parents, and the trauma of the events in Pennsylvania finally caught up with her, and she couldn't be strong any more.

Bronnie held to her tightly, ignoring that she was the little sister. And Lacey. . .Lacey ignored what her little sister had to say about what she would do to Jack if he ever truly hurt her. Not because she didn't take Bronnie seriously, but because she simply didn't have the energy to chastise her sister or remind her that there was no one to defend Jack the way Bronnie so fiercely defended Lacey.

TWTWTWTWTW

Back in Croatia, Jadranko Zdravac peeked into the room where Jack always stayed during his visits. Jack was more asleep than awake, and Jadranko knew that he would hear from his friend in the morning about Eliot's phone call to Lacey. But for now, he was safe. He gently removed the phone from Jack's hand, just in time to hear young Lacey whisper, "I love you, Jack." Jadranko blinked back tears, hung up the phone, put it in his pocket and left the room. Oh yes. Jack would have many things to say to him in the morning, most of it _very_ unpleasant.

As a boy, Jadranko made a promise to his mother, after they discovered that his father and her husband died at the hand of the body-snatcher who wore his skin. Jack told him the name of the species once, Raxa-something or other. As he said, he hurt Jack, very badly, within minutes of Jack's resurrection after the body snatcher killed him. When the ashamed eleven year old told his mother what he did, Marija told her eldest that it was up to him to replace pain with joy. Over the years, he did just that, first by being a friend to the seemingly-young man, then his lover, and now. . .now he had a new way to do it.

It was easy for him to forget sometimes, just how long Jack lived. He looked quite young, after all, and was often playful until that part of him which was a soldier was needed. And then, a particular sadness would creep into Jack's bright eyes, or he would be unguarded for a moment, and Jadranko would realize how old Jack truly was. He would lose all of them, some day. Jadranko, the Kellers. All of them. Jadranko wasn't a man who spent a great deal of wishing death for those he considered friends, but the idea of Jack being eternal. . .it broke his heart. He wanted Jack to be able to die some day. Just not now. Not for a long time. Selfishness and selflessness warred with each other in his soul, at least where Jack was concerned.

That was why he took the steps he did. . .seducing Jack and having Eliot call Alexandra Keller. He knew that Jack cared for the young American girl far more than he thought he should (quite possibly a first for Jack), but he needed to know how she felt about him. Eliot reported that while he didn't know the girl at all, he didn't think it was a good sign that Lacey's voice went all cold and quiet when he told her about the beating Jack endured or the mission they'd been on. It wasn't a good sign, for the thugs, or for Eliot and Jadranko, but it confirmed Jadranko's suspicions about Lacey's desire to protect Jack. That, he thought, was a very good thing.

He couldn't force Jack's hand; but maybe, once Jack's anger with him and with Eliot exhausted itself, maybe their post-coital conversation(s) would give him food for thought. Jadranko stroked his hand over the sleeping man's hair, running his fingers through his fringe, then bent down and kissed Jack's forehead tenderly. He whispered as he straightened up, "Sleep well, my beloved friend. Take your joy where you might find it." He petted Jack's hair one last time, and then left the room. He and Eliot had work to do before the sun came up once more. Jack had done his part, and then some. Now it was their turn.

Additional notes: According to the research I did when the name 'Zdravac' first popped into my head, Jadranko should be Croatian. However, I've often found that lines blur, so if I'm incorrect, I do apologize.


	3. Friendship Caught Fire

Author's Note: And now, we come to the end of the stepping stone stories. The next story, _Fragments Reassembled_ focuses on Alex, the murder-suicide at the end of 1999, Suzie, Tosh, and Owen. Then we have the Autobots and Decepticons making their grand entrance, followed by the introduction of Ianto and Gwen. As ever, Jack and all things _Torchwood_ doesn't belong to me. . .if the show did, Esther would have survived. John Keller also does not belong to me. Nor does a character from episode seven of _Miracle Day _who shows up in the last section.

Chapter Three

Friendship Caught Fire

Pittsburgh, PA

May 1996

Beep. Beep. Beep. Tick. Tick. Tick. Beep, tick, beep, tick, beep, tick. The rhythm of life and death, he supposed. The beep that reassured him that the person in the bed was still alive, the tick of the clock that told him that time was running out for her, as it ran out for just about everyone. Except him, it seemed. The good news was, she would live. This time. Her injuries were serious, but not fatal. Or, were no longer fatal. It was touch and go for a while, but she would be all right now. He held her small, pale hand tightly, his fingers laced with hers, as his free hand stroked her hair back from her forehead. The Doctor would have found the scene hopelessly domestic, but right now, that wasn't even a blip on his radar.

He lost everyone he loved. . .he learned that years ago. There were times when he closed himself off from people, people whom he could have loved. Yet, in the end, his heart ended up making another choice. He would lose Lacey. In time, he would lose her, but learning of the explosion that nearly took her life forced him to realize something: he would have never forgiven himself if she died and he never even tried to find out if they could love each other. From what he could gather from the things that she said and didn't say, she was in love with him even now. He had a second chance with this girl who accepted him as he was. He wouldn't throw that away.

"Time to wake up, Lacey-girl. The doctors say that you're going to be just fine, you just need to open your eyes. And I _know_ you can do that. A new college graduate like you? You can do anything you set your mind to," Captain Jack Harkness told the still-unconscious girl. It had been four days since her graduation from college with her BA in history, and three days since the incident that killed her former roommate Kara and seriously injured Lacey. Jack still wasn't entirely clear on what happened; however, from what he could piece together, Lacey and Kara were caught in an explosion, along with several others. Lacey was unconscious when she was found, as was one young man, three others were killed, and Kara's body was either burned beyond recognition or simply wasn't recovered. That was two survivors out of a group of six.

Jack, needless to say, had many questions. . .such as, were there others in the building at the time? Yes, he was told, and the survivors were still being admitted to the hospital. What caused the explosion? That was still under investigation (general translation, they had no earthly, or un-earthly, idea what caused the initial explosion or the one that killed so many of Lacey's friends). And finally, how was it possible that Kara was the only one whose body was missing? Could Kara have escaped the firestorm that followed the explosion? Maybe she went for help? However, he was told that there was no way that she could have done so, especially not after the EMS personnel saw the dead and unconscious bodies of her friends. The only way she could have survived it was if she left the building, and while some witnesses remembered seeing her go in with the others, no one reported seeing her come out. Jack knew that didn't necessarily mean anything, but it made Kara's survival far less likely.

And so, he quietly mourned for his young friend's grief when she regained consciousness, helped where he could before heading to the hospital to wait with the Kellers for news on Lacey, and tried not to think about the mission he just completed. No. No, he would focus on Lacey and on her family. He had no idea if he would even be welcome, but given the Kellers refused to let him face Melissa's loss alone, he wasn't about to abandon them now. They were, as he anticipated, in the waiting room, huddled in a small group: John pacing, Bronnie wringing her hands worriedly, Rinna sitting in a chair with Cissie in her lap. Bronnie saw him first, and ran down the corridor of the hospital, ignoring her parents' warnings, and catapulted herself right into Jack's waiting arms.

This was the first time in close to a year that he'd seen the entire Keller family. Bronnie was now thirteen, in the process of becoming a _very_ pretty young lady, while Cissie was an adorable almost-seven year old. Once she saw her older sister securely tucked against Jack's body, the youngest Keller girl shrieked his name (much to the consternation and amusement of the adults gathered) and raced toward him. He caught her up in his arms as well, carrying both girls back to their parents. He stared at John and Rinna silently, unsure of his welcome here. He hadn't really talked to either of them since Lacey's birthday the previous year. Lacey, yes (the Jadranko-instigated telephone call and a few others), but not her parents. He released the two little girls, and motioned them to stay out of the line of fire. Things could get ugly.

Bronnie was obviously not happy about this (prompting once more the memory of Lacey on the ground, his head in her lap after she killed the alien bounty hunter); on the other hand, Cissie sensed the tension between her parents and Jack, and she ducked behind Bronnie. But then, Rinna's face crumpled and she almost literally fell into Jack's arms, sobbing and apologizing for hurting him. Jack simply held her close, whispering that it was all right, that Lacey would be fine. And then, John was touching his shoulder and Jack drew him into the embrace as well. Bronnie and Cissie each latched onto one of Jack's legs, and he had nearly the entire Keller family holding him. He had the sense that they wouldn't let him get away. That was fine. He could live with that. Once they were finished squeezing him, he was led to the chairs, with Cissie firmly ensconced in his lap.

He was quickly briefed on Lacey's injuries. He would never tell them so, but it was about what could be expected for someone who survived an explosion: broken bones, cuts and contusions, and abrasions. Lacey apparently was knocked to the ground when the initial blast rocked the building and had the sense to find/crawl to a corner and curl up, protecting her internal organs. If she hadn't been in that position, her injuries would have been far worse. Unfortunately, she did fall on her side and debris struck her exposed hip and some of her ribs. But she would heal from that. The doctors weren't entirely sure why she was still unconscious, but they were clear: she was unconscious, _not_ comatose. However, even with that bit of good news, it would still be a long road to recovery for her. . .a VERY long road. But, as Jack well knew, she would have a strong support system in her parents and her sisters.

And, he finally had to admit to himself, as he watched over the unconscious girl, she'd have Jack, too. As long as she wanted him there, he wouldn't leave her side. And for the last several hours, that was exactly what he did. . . aside from a nap when a combination of boredom and exhaustion took their toll, he remained at Lacey's bedside. He missed his young friend terribly. . .missed the laughter in her voice when she chastised him, missed the warmth of her hugs, missed everything about her. It was one of the reasons he asked her about her perfume when she used that amazing tool of phone comfort for him.

And during the past year, as he went on one mission after another, that memory offered him succor when he was exhausted, frustrated or simply about to reach what seemed to be the limits of his endurance. That memory kept him from turning into an empty shell of a man who didn't care about others, who _couldn't _care about others. He said softly now, "I don't come back for people, Lacey, you know that. I mean, I stay friends with the people I sleep with. . .normally. . . but I can't go back, I can only go forward. And the last time I did, the last time I tried. . ." Jack shuddered, remembering New York City in 1928, a night of blood and agony and horror, and a beautiful Italian boy.

But that was in the past, and so many things were different now. Including Jack himself. He raised the hand resting limply in his own to his lips, whispering, "I'm trusting you, Lacey, trusting you in a way I haven't trusted anyone for a very long time. But you gotta wake up. If you don't wake up, I'll. . .start singing something to annoy you. Let's see. . . I could sing some Lionel Richie for you? No, you like him. Well, that won't work! Mmm. . .maybe _The Name Game_ or _The Name Song_ or whatever that's called? Oh, that's an idea. Or. . .what's that song that Bronnie always used to sing, something about _The Song that Never Ends_, I think? Don't think I won't annoy you into waking up, because I can and I will. How do you think I got your father to ask your mother out? I annoyed him, cajoled him, and kept pushing until he did it. Even threatened to ask her out myself. Think that may have been what did it, in the end. He married your mom and the three of you came along. And I think we're all grateful for it."

He paused, looking toward the window, and whispered, "I know I am. You five gave me something I never thought I would have, something I didn't think it was possible to have." Even with the recent conflict with John and Corinna, they were still his best friends, and the Keller family was the only family he'd had since Lucia left with Melissa. And that was what scared him about his feelings for Lacey. He was afraid that he would mess things up with her as he must have with Angelo and Lucia and too many others to count. But he was tired of being alone and tired of being afraid.

Slim fingers curled around his, ever so slightly, and a soft, raspy voice informed him, "Y' talk too much, Jack." The startled immortal froze briefly, momentarily convinced that his subconscious was playing tricks on him and he was hearing a voice he wanted so very much he wanted to hear. Still, he looked away from the window to see the familiar dark eyes open at half-mast and peering up at him. Lacey managed a weak smile and murmured, "Woke up hours ago. Just lay here, listenin' to y' talk. Wouldna objected t' y' singin,' though. Mighta been nice." Jack started to speak, but she whispered, "Nurse came in. Y' were 'sleep. Still look tired." Lacey's fingers brushed along his cheek and to Jack's surprise, her fingers were wet. Wet with his tears. He hadn't even realized he was crying. She smiled up at him sleepily, adding, "Cryin' for me, Jack? Don't need to. 'M lot stronger 'n I look."

"Don't you. . ._ever_. . .scare me like that again, Alexandra Elizabeth, do you understand me? Ever!" Jack hissed, pressing another kiss to the fingers curled around his own. She simply smiled at him and allowed her eyes to close once more. She looked exhausted, poor thing, though the dark circles under her eyes could have come from something else. Did she know that Kara and their other friends were dead? He hoped not. Her road to recovery would be long enough as it was. Jack leaned over to kiss her forehead, intending to let Lacey's parents and sisters know that she was okay once the new college graduate fell asleep, but Lacey always was a sneaky little brat. Her fingers slipped around to cup the back of his neck, gently massaging at the tight muscles she found there, and then drew his head to rest alongside her shoulder. Dry, chapped lips pressed a soft kiss to the side of his head in turn.

"Rest. 'M here, won't leave y.' Rest," Lacey murmured. Jack tried to protest, but she was right. Besides, her fingers at the nape of his neck were very persuasive. He was exhausted, even before hearing of the shocking explosion that nearly took Lacey from them. His recent mission was one of the more unpleasant in recent memory (not just because he died ten times during the course of the mission), and saying that he was displeased that he realized that he missed Lacey's graduation from college was something of an understatement. All he wanted when he reached Western Pennsylvania was to see Lacey and get a shower. At least he managed one of those. Remembering his phone conversation with Lacey nearly a year earlier (phone comfort. Only Lacey would come up with that), he rubbed his cheek against her hospital gown and she murmured, "Yeah. Rest. Y've watched over me enough times. 'S m' turn now." And still, her fingers rubbed the back of his neck, gently massaging away the tension and fear of the last several hours. He was vaguely aware that he shouldn't be letting her do this, aware that Lacey was injured and should be resting. And apparently, he said something to that effect, because Lacey murmured, "This helps me go back to sleep." Oh. That was all right then.

Captain Jack Harkness. . .exhausted, filthy and heartsick after seeing what was left of the building where four young people died. . .fell asleep as one of the few survivors of that small group rubbed her fingers through his hair and along his neck. He was comforted by the gentle touch of those fingers and by the sound of her steady breathing. So comforted that he never heard the door open and close behind him, nor did he hear the soft voices over his head. For just a little while, Jack Harkness knew some true peace.

TWTWTWTWTWTW

"How is he?" General John Keller asked softly as he watched his best friend sleep, his head resting alongside Lacey's shoulder. His firstborn blinked up at him a bit owlishly, exhaustion and the painkillers starting to drag her back under. But she blinked the sleep from her eyes and focused on him, John feeling just a bit cowed at the fiercely determined light that appeared in his daughter's eyes. She really was too much like him. . .too much like him and too much like Corinna, with a little bit of Jack thrown in for good measure. Scary thought, that.

"Exhausted," Lacey replied succinctly. Half of it, he knew, was the medication. Half of it was her continuing annoyance with both John and Corinna. She was still angry with them for their reaction to the events of her twenty-first birthday. John could understand that. But she was their little girl, and he wanted her to remain innocent just a little longer. Unfortunately, the last time he told her that, Lacey responded that her innocence died the day she was kidnapped and Jack died to rescue her. John elected not to tell her that Jack actually died several times that night. He didn't think she really needed to know that, least of all right now. Instead, he focused his attention on making his friend more comfortable. Lacey hissed, "Don't wake him!" John bit back a reminder of all the times he carried her and her sisters to bed without waking them. It was a little different than easing a man as big and as long-legged as Jack onto a bed.

"I won't wake him, Alexandra Elizabeth . .I'm _trying_ to make him more comfortable," he retorted instead. Lacey glared at him for a moment longer, and then closed her eyes, but never stopped the light movement of her fingers at the nape of Jack's neck. Ordinarily, John would tell his daughter to keep out of things that didn't concern her. Unfortunately, he couldn't do that this time, since she was at the heart of his and Rinna's conflict with Jack. To make matters worse, Rinna told him that Lacey was still in love with Jack. . .nothing had changed for Lacey since she was nineteen. She was still in love with him and John didn't even have the comforting possibility that she wasn't even trying to have relationships with other males. She'd been in love with Jack since she was seventeen, and that didn't look like it was changing any time soon. And it wasn't that John objected to Jack. . .but he was over a century older than Lacey, from three thousand years in the future, and. . .and Lacey was John's daughter.

Still, there was no one he trusted more than Jack, even with the conflict of the last year. This, he begrudgingly admitted, was more due to him and Corinna than Jack. Their friend quietly accepted their recriminations before leaving on his mission in Europe. Lacey, on the other hand, still hadn't forgiven them entirely. And he couldn't deny that the man currently sleeping alongside Lacey died multiple times to protect all three Keller girls, so he knew that Jack would do anything within his power to protect Lacey. It was. . .he wasn't entirely sure how his long-time friend really felt about Lacey. He cared for her, yes. . . he loved her, yes. . .and according to Rinna and Bronnie (and since when did he started listening to his teenaged daughter about these things?), it was even likely that he desired her. But was it enough? At what point could a parent simply let go and accept that his child wasn't a child any more, that she was capable of making her own decisions. . .her own mistakes?

So often, Rinna told him that love was friendship caught fire. That was certainly the case with them, but would it be enough for their daughter and their friend? Oh, Lacey would never admit to John or to Rinna how deep her feelings for Jack ran, but they were there. As John carefully aligned his friend's body so that Jack was resting in the bed and against Lacey (and at some point, they really needed to get him to a place where he could shower), he tried to focus on his friend's comfort, rather than on the recent accident. He also tried not to smile at the sleepy mumbles coming from Jack as he curled against Lacey, an arm thrown across her waist. Somewhere deep in his subconscious, he must have remembered where not to touch. Then again, at this point, nothing about Jack should surprise him. John stepped back once Jack and Lacey were both comfortable and put his hand on his friend's shoulder, watching as Lacey's fingers continued to stroke along the back of his neck, through his hair, across his shoulders, down his spine. Her eyes began to flutter shut and she mumbled, "Tell. . . nurse. . .'s okay. Figured. . .Kara was dead."

John blinked back tears and moved his hand to his daughter's forehead. Lacey murmured something and shifted, just a little. . .just enough to rest her cheek against Jack's forehead. John continued to stroke her forehead until she drifted off to sleep. Once she was settled, the former military officer sank into the chair Jack occupied for so many hours. Kara was dead, as were three others. There were so many unanswered questions, about everything. To distract herself from her worry over Lacey, Rinna arranged for flowers and wreaths to be sent to the funerals of the children who died. To distract herself, yes, and out of guilt for the relief that her own child survived. When she wasn't doing that or seeing to the two little ones, she was on the phone with her friends about survivor guilt, what she would need to do for Lacey once it really hit her that Kara was dead. One good thing about the situation the previous summer: they found out that Lacey was generally fine until the problem was resolved, and then she fell apart. Delayed reactions were common with their firstborn.

Well, they would deal with it. Just like they dealt with everything else. John knew that Jack intended to stay as long as Lacey needed him to be nearby. According to Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, it was likely that Jack would be called home to Cardiff soon. Called home. John wanted to protest that Jack's home was with them, but. . .but Cardiff was Jack's home for nearly a century, long before he met the Kellers, long before Corinna or John were born. And so, he bit back his objection and instead, thought about what that would mean. Something Jack said about Lacey was repeating over and over in his head, something about not running any more. And if that meant what John thought it meant, then he and Corinna faced not just losing their best friend, but their daughter. Rinna, naturally, would remind him that they wouldn't be losing their daughter, but gaining a son. . .who happened to be far older than the two of them combined.

What would it mean to his family, if Jack became an official member of it? He and Rinna discussed that in the twelve hours Jack sat with Lacey. The idea was raised that they would become targets because Jack loved them. Bronnie, who was becoming entirely too smart for a thirteen year old, pointed out that Lacey had been a target since she was eight years old. Turning against Jack because he often pissed off **Very Bad People** would be incredibly stupid. Rinna chastised their middle daughter for her language, but observed that the child had a point. She also reminded him that they were speaking about something that hadn't even happened yet. Besides, no matter what happened, things were up to Jack and Lacey now. John and Rinna? They had to be ready to pick up the pieces, in case things went incredibly pear-shaped. And when Torchwood was involved, that was always a strong possibility.

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW

By all rights, she shouldn't have slept nearly as long as she did. After all, she was unconscious for nearly half a week. But twenty hours after her father nudged, pushed and maneuvered Jack into her bed (and she tried real hard not to think about Jack being in her bed), Alexandra Keller opened her eyes to find the sun streaming into her window, her injuries throbbing, and a dull ache in her heart. However, she was quickly distracted by Jack Harkness still lying beside her. Actually, technically speaking, he was reclining beside her, head propped by his hand. And he was smiling at her with a tenderness that threatened to take her breath away. She smiled sleepily at him and murmured, "Morning. Or afternoon. Or whatever it is."

Oh good. She had stopped speaking in ellipses, like some sort of Barbara Cartland heroine. Jack simply smiled at her, still staring at her. If she didn't hurt like hell, Lacey probably would have fidgeted under the steady gaze. Jack couldn't really be looking at her like that, could he? Nah. The pain medication was making her loopy. Right. Of course it was, that was why she hurt all over, because the pain medication was working. _Try again, Keller_, she told herself. Jack still hadn't said anything, which was probably why she began groping around in her mind to find something that would break through that wall of silence. Unfortunately, the first thing that popped into her head was straight from Jack's own repertoire. That was the only explanation for her saying, "See something you like?"

She could have slapped herself, even before Jack's smile broadened into a smirk and he winked at her and replied in his lowest, sexiest voice, "Oh yes. I'm looking at the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Lacey felt her cheeks burn as the blood rushed to them and she looked away. However, Jack was having none of that. He gently gripped her chin in his fingers, the simple touch demanding that she look at him. And Lacey never could deny him. She shyly raised her eyes to meet his and Jack whispered, "You are beautiful. I've told you that in the past and for some reason, you didn't believe me. But you are. You are beautiful to me. But that's not all. You matter to me, Alexandra Keller, and I was devastated when I thought we were losing you, when I thought you were lost to me. You matter to me."

Admitting that he loved someone was difficult, at best, for Jack. Saying the words, at least. But when he told her that she mattered to him and losing her would have hurt. . .that was as good as an 'I love you.' She wiggled her fingers on her left hand experimentally. . .ow. Damn, that wouldn't work. However, Jack reached out with the hand not currently supporting his head and covered the injured hand. She curled her fingers around his and whispered, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Jack. . .but I love you. And I'm sorry I worried you. Dad says that you sat beside me for twelve hours. Guess you do love me, don't you?" It was one of the last things Dad said before Lacey lost the battle to stay awake. . .that Jack parked his ass in the chair beside her hospital bed and didn't leave it until her dad eased him into the bed beside her.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead lightly, fingers still curled around her own, but said nothing. Nor did Lacey expect anything from him. However, she listened as he said softly, "More than you can imagine, Alexandra. Far more than you can imagine. I've had a lot of time to think, these last few days while you've been unconscious or asleep. For three years, I've fought against what happens to me every time I look at you. The last time I returned for someone, the last time I allowed my guard to drop. . ." A haunted look appeared in the familiar blue eyes and Lacey tightened her grasp as much as she could. He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. Someone hurt him and hurt him deeply. She hoped for their sake that she never encountered them. She'd kick his/her ass for hurting Jack. Once she could kick anything, that is. With her hip in its current condition, that was likely to take a while.

"So what's different now?" she asked, her voice just as soft as his own. She wished she could touch his face, could trace his lips and the lines of his features. But her left arm was shielding her face and head during the explosion, from what she could remember. Why, she didn't know, but that was the way it worked out. She tried not to imagine what Jack's lips would feel like against her fingertips. This was too new to her and her body ached too much, and she was too afraid of misinterpreting what Jack was telling her, because if he was saying what she thought he was saying, he was offering something she wanted for so long.

"I almost lost you. We, all of us, almost lost you. That's one thing. Another is. . .it seems that we're better together. I died ten times during this last mission, Lace. I'm not telling you that to upset you, but because you get angrier when I try to hide things from you. You know about me getting beaten up while I was overseas last year and believe me, both Jadranko and Eliot got an earful about that. And someone tries to blow up you, when I wasn't around to protect you. I'm not sure if what I can give you is enough, but it's all I've got," Jack told her softly, "and maybe, if we work things out together, we'll be able to protect each other. I. . .I don't know if I can tell you what you want to hear, what you need to hear, but. . .you have my heart, Alexandra Keller."

So saying, he delicately picked up her injured arm and oh so gently manipulated her wrist until her palm could rest over the solidly-beating organ. The same heart which Lacey fell asleep listening to as a little girl. . .the same heart which Lucia Moretti broke twice over. The same heart which now belonged to her, if she wanted it and if she would take care of it. It was a no-brainer, so far as she was concerned. . .she wanted, very much, and she would be proud to take care of his heart. But Jack wasn't finished. He said quietly, "I'm hearing from some old friends that I'll be called back to the UK next year. I'll be cleared to go home by then. I'd like you to go with me. There are so many things I want to show you, Lacey-girl."

Her own heart dropped clear to her toes when he mentioned Cardiff and home. . .they were losing Jack. . .and then his request penetrated her brain. He wanted her to go with him. She asked slowly, "You. . .want me to go with you. As what?" As what? As what? What did it matter, as what, when he was asking her to go with him! He smiled at her, making her very grateful that she was lying down: otherwise, her knees would have buckled at that smile. How did he always managed to do that to her? It was so totally unfair!

"As my wife, Alexandra Elizabeth. I want you to accompany me to Cardiff as my wife. I don't know how long I'll have with you, but whatever time we have. . .I want it," Jack replied. Lacey tried to get a handle on. . .everything. Jack was here. He would be going back to Cardiff sometime next year, and he wanted her to go with him. Not as his personal assistant, not even as his friend, but as his wife. He hadn't said that he loved her, but his heart was hers. And for Jack, that was a declaration of love. In all the time she had known him, he was very sparing with those words. He loved her. Whether he was in love with her or not. . .did it matter? Did it matter whether he loved her the way that she loved him?

No. No, it didn't. And Lacey wasn't settling, because twenty-five or thirty years with Jack Harkness, or even just five years, was preferable to sixty years with a man that she would never love as much as she loved Jack. **That **was settling, and her father always told her that he would rather see her spend the rest of her life alone than settle for second best. She hadn't understood at the time, but she did now. It wasn't settling because there was more to love than what the books and movies said. Love was as much about the quiet moments as anything, about making each other laugh, and having a hand to cling to when the storms got to be too much and standing proud and strong, side by side. She returned her attention to Jack's eyes, she saw the uncertainty there, the fear that what he had to offer wouldn't be good enough for what she wanted. She smiled and said softly, "I would be honored to be your wife, Jack Harkness."

His eyes widened and his lips parted. He started to speak several times, but words, as the song went, got in the way. She would have never imagined that Jack Harkness would be such a person, though. Wasn't common at all to see, or hear, him speechless. Lacey gave herself a few minutes to think, and then said, "We'll get married at a justice of the peace, of course. Once I can walk again, that is. . .I am _not_ getting married in a wheelchair!" She thought a bit regretfully of the Wedding Mass she once dreamed of having, before she realized she was in love with Jack, and then let that dream go. No, being married by the justice of the peace would be far easier and far more comfortable for Jack. Her parents would be disappointed, but once she explained her reasoning, they would understand it.

"You've always wanted to be married in the Church, Lacey, I know that. It was something you talked about when you were a little girl," Jack responded. He gasped a little, closing his eyes as her pinkie finger twitched over his chest. . .because her pinkie was situated right over a nipple, and those little twitches brushed that small bit of flesh. Ah. Liked that, did he? Not very fair of her, but in her own defense, Lacey really didn't know what would give him pleasure. But she wanted to find out. She wanted to run her hands over his body, wanted to know if his abdomen and inner thighs were as sensitive as his chest, wanted to know if she could make him groan the way she did when she kissed him, three years earlier. A mental image of her first erotic dream about Jack flashed through her mind and she blushed. But her body wasn't ready for that, and she wasn't entirely sure if the rest of her was ready, either. She was looking forward to finding out, though. She was looking forward to finding out _a lot_ of things.

"You're right. But I also know that you're not comfortable with organized religion. . .with any kind of religion, really. I probably won't be able to sleep with you until after we're married, 'cause as soon as I can walk again, we're doing this. So, if you're more comfortable with being married by a justice of the peace, we'll do it, and have a hand-fasting later, the way my Scottish ancestors used to when they didn't have a priest in the general area and wouldn't have one for some time," Lacey replied. Hand-fasting, jumping the broom. . .her ancestors were incredibly resourceful people, and she hoped to do them justice. Besides, the hand-fasting or jumping the broom would appeal to Jack. It was unconventional in this day and age, and Jack was nothing if not unconventional.

"You. . .would do that for me. Get married outside the Church, something you've wanted since you were a little girl. . .to make me more comfortable?" Jack asked, sounding more than a little nonplussed. Lacey blinked up at him. Yes, it was a regret, but one she couldn't truly regret, if that made any sense, which it probably didn't. She nodded slowly, suddenly feeling as if Jack was seeing her for the first time. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. . .and then, a moment later, he smiled at her. A real smile, which was even more devastating than one of his blinding, mega-watt, he-really-needed-to-register-that-as-a-deadly-weapon smile.

"Of course I would, Jack. I love you. Besides, it's the smart move for purely practical purposes," Lacey informed him. He raised a questioning eyebrow and she explained, "If we get married in the Church, you would need to attend pre-Cana meetings and things like that. Your work in Torchwood would make it real hard for you to keep those appointments. So. Justice of the peace it is." He stared at her in total astonishment. She didn't know why. Bronnie forced her to talk about these things last year after Jack's phone call from Europe, under the guise of getting Lacey to explain why she and Jack wouldn't work. Of course, it ended up doing the exact opposite. Funny how that worked.

And then, she forgot all about all of that as Jack leaned in closer and those lovely pheromones overwhelmed her. He kissed her very lightly, very chastely, with a hint of what could come in time. She closed her eyes, accepting the kiss, twitching her pinkie finger once more. Lacey could feel his groan against her lips and that provoked reactions in her body that she really wasn't ready to handle. Fortunately, Jack seemed to understand that, for he pulled back and whispered, "Just when I think you can't surprise me any further. . .you do something so incredibly fantastic. I will make it up to you, Lacey-Lace, I promise."

"Not much to make up. Yeah, I guess I would have liked a big wedding, but that's not real practical. Bronnie is too young to be my maid of honor, and Kara. . ." Lacey began. To her horror, her eyes began to fill with tears as the reality of her friend's death finally began to hit her. Kara was dead. Kara, Wayne, Nathalie, Soraya. They were all dead. One minute, they were joking, and then the explosion, and. . .oh God, her friends were dead! Her friends were dead and she was planning her wedding. Jack must have seen her grief for he released her hand and slid his own hand around to cradle the back of her neck, drawing her head to rest against his chest.

"Let it out, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice impossibly tender, and Lacey had neither the strength nor the energy to do anything else. She quietly wept into his shirt for the friends she lost, for the conversations they would never have, for the futures that were taken from them. And Kara. _Oh, Kara_. Her beautiful friend who was a combination of big sister, mother hen, guidance counselor, avenging angel, and favorite nag. They drove each other crazy on occasion, but they loved each other, and Kara told her many times that Lacey was the sister she never had. She had a baby brother, Nicky, who was only nine years old. . .a little brother she would never have the chance to see grow up.

And through the entire emotional storm, Jack simply held her, never saying a word. Just holding her. Just loving her. And if her hair was wet from his tears, well, they would never talk about that. At last, she was cried out and reclined against his chest, exhausted, and Jack said softly, "Mourn for your friends, Lacey-Lace. But I know how your mind works and I can tell you right now, the last thing Kara wants is for you to put aside your own happiness. She loved you, she wants you to be happy. And if you try to push that away, that would be a greater betrayal than anything else. Like I said. . .mourn. Grieve. It's part of being human. But don't think that when you laugh at your sisters' antics or smile, that you're betraying her. You aren't. You're honoring her." Lacey bobbed her head a bit numbly.

They both fell silent for several moments. There were times when they didn't need to speak, when the silence could fill the space between them. Lacey rubbed her cheek against the blue shirt, wondering a bit absently how many shirts like this Jack owned. She would learn, over time. . .the things she needed to know to take care of him properly. Kara always said that Lacey took good care of her while they were living together. Mama fussed at Jack sometimes about his table manners, but not the way she would have fussed at the girls. Dad told her once in an undertone that Lacey wasn't supposed to hear, but did anyhow, that Jack often had to eat fast and talk at the same time. Had something to do with his early teen years. Lacey thought that was awful. But she probably didn't know the full story.

She would learn, though. Lacey rubbed her cheek against Jack's shirt again. She would learn everything she needed to know to take care of him. She would learn where and how to touch him, would learn what he really liked to eat, and whether hugs or massages were better to ease the hurts of the day. Well, they both were, but sometimes one was needed, or the other, and sometimes both. She would learn those things. She would learn all of it. But for now, she needed to grieve and to heal, and Jack promised that he would be there for all of it. He sometimes omitted things, sometimes kept secrets, but he never lied to her. Never.

TWTWTWTWTW

Indianapolis, Indiana

April 1997

Bronwyn Nicole Teresa Keller beamed as her big sister exchanged wedding vows with Captain Jack Harkness in the backyard of the Keller home. Bronnie was afraid her parents would come unglued when Lacey told them that she planned to marry Jack in a civil ceremony, followed by a hand-fasting at home, but Mama came through like a champion. She immediately began making plans and calling out-of-state relatives, while Daddy. . .

Well, Daddy just kissed Lacey, told her that he loved her and was so proud of her, and glowered at Jack briefly. But only briefly. 'Course, then Cissie got confused about whether she should call him 'Uncle Jack' as she always had, or simply 'Jack.' Since it was his name and all. Jack just laughed, swept her into a fierce embrace, and told her to call him whatever she wanted. Lacey quipped from the bed as long as they never called him late for dinner, and Jack told her it was a good thing she was resting against all the pillows. That prompted Bronnie's sister to reach behind her with her good hand and hurl a pillow at Jack. Had pretty good aim, too, hitting him right in the face. That made everyone laugh.

And now, Lacey and Jack were married. Just like Lacey planned, there was a civil ceremony at the justice of the peace and then a hand-fasting in the Keller backyard. He wore his World War II uniform, while Lacey and their mother scoured the consignment shops and boutiques for a vintage wedding gown from the 1940's. Bronnie thought they did pretty good. And as Lacey stated when Jack first proposed to her (hardly the most romantic proposal, but oh well. . .it got the job done, right?), she was standing and walking on her own. No wheelchair or crutches or cane (although maybe she did lean on Jack. Just a little). Bronnie was so proud of her big sister, she was fit to bust. And Lacey looked so beautiful today. It wasn't just the gorgeous dress that she and Mama found, but she looked utterly radiant, and Bronnie thought she'd cry every time Lacey smiled up at Jack.

That was what she wanted. No, not an immortal man who died and came back to life, 'cause she really didn't think she was strong enough to handle that. (Yes, Bronnie actually asked Lacey if she needed to remarry Jack every time he died. Her older sister blinked and murmured only if he was dead long enough to be declared legally dead. Which made sense.) But she wanted someone who could make her smile like that, could make her very soul shine through. That, Bronnie decided as Lacey moved to rescue her new husband from their maternal grandmother, who was determined to grill her new grandson-in-law. That was what made Lacey so beautiful today. . .well, every day since Lacey announced that she and Jack were getting married. It wasn't just the amazing dress or the flowers in her hair or her make-up. Jack, or Lacey's love for Jack, made her soul shine out of her eyes, and that was what made her so beautiful.

"You know, I haven't seen you dance with even one person yet, Bronwyn. Think it's time we remedied that," her dad said and Bronnie smiled up at him. She never even heard him come up beside her, but she supposed that was sort of the point of walking on the grass. The (almost) fourteen year old accepted the hand that was offered to her and delicately put her feet atop her father's shoes, giggling as he swung her about. It occurred to her briefly that she wouldn't be able to do this for much longer. She was rewarded with laughter from her father, who was a bit misty-eyed as he looked toward Jack and Lacey. He said softly, "She looks so happy. So happy and so very beautiful. I do believe you look as proud of her as I feel. She never gave up. Not on walking without a limp in her time frame and not on Jack."

"I am. I'm proud of her for walking again, like she said she would, and for protecting Jack from Grandma. . .don't tell Mama, but she's really, really scary," Bronnie replied. Her father threw his head back and laughed, nearly dislodging Bronnie from her perch, but the young teenager simply gripped the back of his sports jacket a little tighter. She looked over at her sister and new brother-in-law again (and wasn't that weird? She had a brother-in-law now). Lacey was pulled back against Jack's chest, his arms wrapped around her waist and his chin resting atop her head. Bronnie looked up at her dad, adding, "I'm just glad that she forgave you for punching Jack after her twenty-first birthday." Her dad cringed.

"I won't ask how you found out about that," he muttered. Bronnie just raised her eyebrows, trying not to smile at her father's obvious discomfort. Lacey was there when it happened and was at Jack's side immediately, wrapping her arms around him protectively. But that wasn't how Bronnie found out about it. Noooo, she was eavesdropping from one of her favorite hidey-holes and she heard Jack's gasp of pain, Lacey's distressed cry, and the argument which followed. Her dad continued, "Your sister is not the most forgiving of women. That may cause some problems, because Jack is probably the most forgiving person I've ever met."

Bronnie couldn't argue with that. She asked Jack why once. She knew why she was supposed to forgive, but she wanted to know why Jack forgave so many for so much, even when maybe he shouldn't have, and he simply replied, "Because I was forgiven." He wouldn't say anything more, but Bronnie suspected it had to do with this mysterious Doctor whom Jack and Lacey sometimes mentioned in her hearing. The reason, or part of the reason, why Jack and Lacey would be leaving for Cardiff in a matter of days. As he told Bronnie's sister while she was in the hospital, the summons to return to the UK came and as soon as it came, Lacey and their mother began planning the wedding.

"Can I get a dance with my new little sister? Swap partners?" Jack asked, surprising both father and middle daughter. Lacey was on his arm, beaming happily. Bronnie couldn't help herself: she looked at Lacey before she answered. Her big sister mouthed, '_go for it_.' With that small but necessary bit of encouragement, Bronnie took Jack's hand, while their dad swept Lacey into his own arms, making her giggle like a little girl. Bronnie's new brother observed, "I wasn't really sure what to expect from a hand-fasting, but that was nice. How much research did you and Lacey and your mother do to set this up?"

Bronnie simply smiled, shook her head, and pantomimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key. She wasn't about to tell him that, it would ruin the fun! Besides, it made Jack laugh, and that was always worth a bit of silliness. Not because he wasn't free and easy with his smile and his laughter, but it was always neat when she was the one who made him laugh or made him smile. She told that to Lacey once. Her sister smiled and whispered, 'welcome to the club.' It was good to know that she wasn't the only person who felt that way.

"So, is this the part where you tell me what you'll do if I ever break your sister's heart?" Jack asked, and Bronnie reflected that what Grandma Keller said was right. Nearly everything Jack said was half in fun and full in earnest. She also noted that Jack had been scrupulous about not flirting with anyone. Mama observed that today was Jack's wedding day and he would never do that to Lacey. On any other day, yes, but not on Lacey's day. Grandma Keller snorted and pointed out that she noticed that. She asked Lacey about it, who was watching fondly as the women (and some of the men) in the family fussed over Jack. Bronnie's sister retorted that it was Jack, and if he wasn't flirting, she'd have to check him for a fever.

"Nah," she finally told her new brother-in-law, "because you already know what happens if you ever break Lacey's heart. Not that you would, not willingly. And I think you really would hurt yourself before you would ever willingly break Lacey's heart. That just. . .you may be ruthless when you need to be, but you aren't generally deliberately cruel. And yes, that's what Mama told me. She says that your job means you can't always be nice, that sometimes you have to be hard, but you aren't usually vindictive or hurt someone just 'cause." Bronnie stared at her 'uncle' who was now her brother-in-law, adding, "I guess that was supposed to scare me, but I'm just glad that someone like you is gonna be taking care of my sister."

"To the best of my ability, sweetheart. I promise you. I will always take care of your sister to the best of my ability," Jack swore and Bronnie nodded as the dance continued. She knew that. Her oh-so-enlightened aunt Melinda (the one who constantly gave Dad a hard time for being in the military) noted that Jack often flirted with men. Daddy promptly blew her mind by acknowledging that while Jack was omnisexual, loving both genders, he actually preferred men. Aunt Melinda was silent for a long time before observing, '_Well. I suppose that makes our Lacey a special lady_.' As far as Bronnie was concerned, yes, she was. And she was thrilled, knowing that she wasn't alone any more in taking care of her older sister.

TWTWTWTWTWTW

Nevada

Six weeks later

"I have the pictures you requested, Bisnonno. It took me a while to get them developed, but I think you'll find they're worth the wait," the dark-haired young woman told her great-grandfather, sliding gracefully to her knees as she handed him the envelope full of pictures she had taken over the last eleven months. It was hard work, doing what she had done and staying hidden, but it was worth it. Worth it to her, and worth it to the man sitting in the armchair, reverently touching the pictures.

"And what do you think, principessa? Do I exaggerate, as your aunt thinks?" the old man asked, using his free hand to stroke his great-granddaughter's long black hair. He wondered what sort of disguise she used to get into the wedding, or if she even approached the newlyweds. He asked a great deal of her this last time, especially in light of her relationship to the new bride, but she did a magnificent job. The girl tilted back her head and smiled up at him, her dark eyes shining with love and pride.

"You did not exaggerate. He's as beautiful as you said. I watched him over the last few months while she healed, and he's truly extraordinary. And it's not just that he's immortal, though that plays into it. No, I thought about what he must have seen during all these years, all the people he's loved and lost, and the people who must have wanted to experiment on him, and I realized. He isn't special because he's immortal, 'cause he was special long before then. He's special 'cause he can still love. I've met people, Bisnonno, who haven't been through a tenth of what has happened to him, and they're cold and bitter and incapable of loving anyone. But he. . .he may have years or decades when he just wants to be left alone and hibernate, but he still loves, Bisnonno, and that makes him amazing," the girl replied.

Angelo Colasanto beamed down at his great-granddaughter, stroking her hair again, before returning his attention to the pictures of his former lover. She was right. Jack was still beautiful, his smile could still make Angelo's breath catch. There was a slight pang in his heart as his principessa's words repeated in his head. People who must have wanted to experiment on him. . .people who did. He was responsible for one of those times, when he was a foolish little boy, and even now, nearly eighty years later, the image of Jack hanging there, bloodied and terrified, haunted him. Did Jack ever forgive him for what Angelo had done that night, for what he had failed to do? Angelo hadn't forgiven himself.

And so, he watched over Jack. Never making contact, never allowing Jack to know that he was there. . .simply watching over him, for all the good it did. Cardiff, London, the States, it didn't matter. Oh, his granddaughter Olivia didn't understand it, his great-granddaughter had found it creepy when she was growing up and his great-grandson simply didn't care. Olivia. . .she was angry at Jack on his behalf, on her grandmother's behalf. She believed that he wanted immortality for its own sake. . .but how could he want that when he saw the price Jack paid for his own immortality? No. No, he didn't want immortality. He wanted to prolong his life to make things right with Jack.

Mere days after Jack removed himself from Angelo's life in such a dramatic way, the boy encountered a girl who was there that awful night. His great-grandchildren heard this story, unlike his grandchildren: how seventeen year old Carlotta first cheered as the others killed il diavolo over and over again, collecting his blood. But as the night wore on and she began to realize that this was a man (after all, il diavolo would have been able to free himself), her feelings turned to horror at what they were doing and compassion for their victim.

So when she met Angelo and learned that he was partly responsible for that horrifying night, she promptly slapped him across the face. As if that wasn't shocking enough, she burst into tears, telling him how guilty and ashamed she was for her role in what happened. Angelo would tell his great-granddaughter decades later that he knew right at that moment that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this woman. They had fifty years together and unlike their middle granddaughter, Carlotta understood his fascination with Captain Jack Harkness and his need to watch over the man whom he wronged, whom they both wronged.

And now, his great-granddaughter was part of his grand conspiracy. She knew about that horrific night, she knew about the Families and Angelo's attempts to infiltrate their ranks to find out what they planned to do with Jack's blood. And in one of those strange twists that Fate seemed to love so very much, she almost literally fell into an active role when a quiet young woman moved into her apartment. She didn't know at first that this was the daughter of Jack's best friend, much less that the handsome immortal cared for her so deeply. There were many times when she felt caught between her great-grandfather and the girl who was becoming so very dear to her. But in the end. . .

"I know that this was hard for you, Kara," he murmured, "I know that you feel as if you betrayed your friend, especially by letting her believe that you're dead when she was recovering from that explosion. There will come a day when you can make things right with her, just as there will come a day when I can make things right with Jack. This, I swear to you, my principessa." His great-granddaughter lifted her head to meet his eyes and Angelo tenderly thumbed away her tears. During the years they lived together, Alexandra Keller (_Alexandra Keller Harkness_, he reminded himself) became one of Kara's dearest friends. Indeed, she went so far as to tell Angelo on more than one occasion that Alexandra was like a little sister to her.

For this reason, Angelo kept his thoughts to himself as Kara nestled her head against his knee once more. He stared down at the picture of the young girl beaming up at his former lover, taking note of the vintage dress and the adoring smile. He didn't want to believe that she would ever do anything to harm her new husband. But there was a time when he smiled at Jack like that, and look at what he did to him. _Do right by him, Alexandra Keller Harkness_, Angelo thought as he stared at Jack's new wife, _do right by him, take care of him. Because as God is my witness and upon my wife's grave, I swear I will destroy you if you ever hurt him as I did_.

Fin


End file.
